


Re: You

by strawnilla



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Adoption, Amnesia, Cats, Domestic Fluff, Fights, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Marriage, More Tags Will Be Added As Story Goes On, Romance, Slow Burn, Swimming Pools
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawnilla/pseuds/strawnilla
Summary: “I wish you could remember.” There’s a smile on Lance’s face as he says this, a soft, gentle smile. But there is a depth in his eyes, a darkness that is lost and alone and wistful.Keith takes the other’s hand in his. “I wish I could too.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello, voltron fandom and klance fans! i won't keep you here any longer, so do continue on reading o/

Keith is tired. The textbooks that don’t fit in his satchel are heavy in his arms as he leaves his last class of the day. His eyes feel as dry as the desert, and he’s sure he needs a fix of cappuccino since his day isn’t even close to over yet. The assignments on his head and the tests later this week are proof of that.

Dodging people in the hallway, the young man makes his way towards the library, where he promised to meet Pidge and her friends—friends she claims that could help them pass the goddamn English Literature class that they’re both suffering in together.

His phone vibrates in his jeans pocket and he considers ignoring it before realizing it’s probably Shiro checking in on him like the mother hen he is. Keith struggles to press the answer button, slipping the device in between his ear and shoulder as he walks on.

“Hey, Shiro.”

_“Hey Keith. Classes over yet?”_

“Yeah. I’m on my way to the library to meet some guys to study with.”

There’s a resounding gasp on the other line. _“My child Keith… is socializing?!”_

Keith rolls his eyes and swears under his breath. “It’s for English Lit. You know how terrible I am at it.”

_“So you’re saying that you’re desperate.”_

“Very much so.”

Shiro laughs and Keith smiles. _“So, what do you want for dinner?”_

Keith would shrug if he could and if this was a verbal conversation. “As long as it’s not cup ramen, I’ll devour it.”

He opens the library door with his foot, because screw manners when he’s probably late and he’s sure Pidge—even though he’s not really friends with her since he’s only worked with her for assignments a couple of times before—would castrate him. He and Shiro exchange a few more words, _when will I have to come to pick you up_ , before he says his goodbyes and sees Pidge’s chestnut pixie cut among all the other heads in this god forsaken book haven.

Sitting with her are a couple of guys Keith’s sure he hasn’t seen around campus before. There’s a big guy in a yellow shirt with an orange bandana tied around his head, and a cute tall lanky guy with a blue shirt under a dark green jacket with a white hoodie. They’re both sniggering and throwing nuts at each other. Pidge herself is wearing her signature white and green turtleneck and shorts, and she has her nose buried in a complicated-looking programming book that Keith doesn’t even wish to begin to decipher.

Keith places his books in the empty seat beside Pidge, avoiding the eyes of the two strangers sitting across the table as they quiet down at his arrival and nudging Pidge with his elbow.

“Hey, Pidge.”

“Oh, Keith! Finally, you’re here and we can get started.” She places her book down, chirping up but deflating almost immediately as she remembers what the study group is for. “Urgh, _English_.”

Keith sighs at that. “You and me both.”

“Hey, English is beautiful! Broken and messed up at times, but _beautiful_.” The tall guy says, looking mock offended, if the hand on his chest and screwed up expression any indication. The big guy nods, though he looks a lot like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.

Keith sits down, and deadpans, “How poetic.”

The tall guy sticks out his tongue at him and Keith rolls his eyes. That’s twice in a span of ten minutes, a new record for him.

Pidge sniggers. She makes eye contact with Keith and points one hand at the big guy. “This is Hunk. He’s the sweetest thing to ever bless the Earth. We peasants don’t deserve him.”

Hunk just smiles sheepishly and shakes hands with Keith. “Don’t listen to her, I can be pretty mean too.”

“Pretty mean at baking cakes, you mean.” Pidge says, then points towards the tall guy. “Keith, this is Lance. English major, a big dumbass and will flirt with anything that has legs.”

_“Hey!”_

“Lance, Hunk, this is Keith. My fellow suffer-buddy in English Literature, a Psychology major, and the school’s number one people hater.”

“Hey!” Keith glares at her.

“See, what’d I tell ya?” She says, jabbing one thumb in Keith’s direction. “I’m probably the only person in the world who he can talk to without malice.”

“That is _far_ from the truth.” Keith says, thinking of Shiro. Which, considering that’s the only person he can think of off the top of his head, kind of proves her point.

Lance has an eyebrow raised. Keith can’t help his scowl.

“Alright boys, let’s get down to business. Keith and I have a test on this bullshit in a week, and mark my words I will pass it even if it’s the last thing I’ll do!” Pidge announces in a whisper-shout.

Keith groans.

They spend hours in that spot, Lance tutoring each of them on what they need to know, occasionally poking fun here and there because _this is like ABC, Keith, come on,_ and Keith glaring back at him because _we just met. How dare you._

 _We just met, and you already need me this much._ A wiggle of the man’s eyebrows.

Keith kicks him under the table.

By the time Pidge is satisfied and thinks they crammed enough, Keith really feels like studying is just a shortened version of _student dying._ He’s slumped over his still open books, wondering if Shiro would mind if he just spent the night here on this table. Because moving is the last thing he wants to do.

“Same time tomorrow?” Lance asks the group in general. Hunk and Pidge nod their affirmations.

And killing all of them would be the first thing he wants to do.

They pack their things, each of them tired and practically dead on their feet, even after Hunk blessed them with sweets and snacks he snuck into the library. The only one who isn’t as exhausted seems to be Lance, which just infuriates Keith.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” he asks the other man as all of them file out of the library and Lance is skipping on his feet.

Lance winks at a passing girl in stilettos, who giggles and smiles, before he answers. “Not when there are hot peeps around.”

Keith rolls his eyes. He can tell that he’ll never stop being annoyed at Lance.

After saying thanks and goodbye, because manners are important, Keith finds himself back home at the apartment he shares with Shiro.

They have dinner together, and Shiro asks him about the study group he was in. Keith doesn’t say much about it, other than the tutor is an annoying flirt, and Shiro doesn’t pry anymore than necessary.

After Keith manages to finish an assignment for one of his classes that night, he lays down in bed and realizes he’s still thinking about Lance at the back of his mind.

He goes to sleep feeling annoyed.

* * *

 

 

When Keith opens his eyes, the first thing he notices is how tired he is.

The second is how dry his throat feels.

The third, the room that he doesn’t recognize at all.

The ceilings and walls are white, with white tiles arranged neatly on the floor. There’s one bedside table with a pitcher, some cups, and a plate with some cut apples and a small knife, and another bedside table loaded with half-wilted flower baskets and greeting cards.

The man finds himself trying to sit up, wanting to get a better look at the cards, almost to no avail. There’s a cast on his left arm, and with his good hand he feels a bandage wrapped around his head. From all the evidence he’s managed to find in the five seconds he’s been up, he can only assume that he was involved in an accident and is now in a hospital.

Which explains the smell of medicine and sanitized room and all the flowers.

Keith only had a second to try and remember what happened that led him to this situation before the door slides open and a man with brown hair cut short wearing a blue shirt walks in. The stranger looks at him, at first confused, before astonishment and joy settles on his features.

“Keith! Oh my god, Keith, baby, you’re awake!”

The other man is immediately by his bedside, holding his right hand, with baby tears forming at the ends of his deep blue eyes. Keith finds himself a little breathless at them.

But… _baby?_

Feeling a little awkward, and kind of freaked out, Keith pulls his hand away. “Um…” he starts, brows furrowing. His dry throat hurts and he coughs and swallows. In a hoarse voice he asks, “Who are you?”

The man’s features drop instantly, but he quickly recovers himself with a small smile and a hollow laugh.

“Haha, that’s right.” He rubs the back of his neck before he shoves his hands into his pockets and looks away. “I was… told this might happen.”

“What…?”

“Just wait a bit, I’ll get someone to come over, okay?” the stranger flashes Keith a strained smile. Without waiting for confirmation from him, the man rushes out of the room.

What… just happened? That was strange beyond belief. Yet, despite all of that, something about his smile and his eyes seem to pull at Keith’s heartstrings.

Huh.

Feeling the bandage around his head again, Keith notices that his hair feels oddly longer than he’s used to. The strands are basically resting at his nape and his bangs are falling into his eyes. That’s not right…

He doesn’t have a chance to think about it further though, because the door opens again, and _finally_ a familiar face pops in.

“Shiro!” Keith smiles, the relief evident on his face. “I’m so glad to see you. What happened to me?” and that’s when he notices a particular item that his childhood friend is wearing. “And why do you have a doctor’s coat…?”

Shiro smiles, that gentle smile he’s always known for, and ruffles Keith’s hair. “Well, at least you still remember me. That’s good.”

Keith pulls a face. “Stop that, I’m not a kid anymore.”

The older man retracts his hand, chuckling slightly. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You didn’t answer mine but sure.”

An unreadable look settles on Shiro’s face, and Keith feels himself straightening up, anticipating whatever it is that Shiro wants to ask him—even if he _is_ the one with the boundless questions. Like, how did this happen? Why is Shiro here playing his doctor? When will he be able to leave?

Who was the man with the brown hair and blue eyes?

“What year is it?” Shiro asks.

Keith narrows his eyes. “It’s… 2006. Right?”

The smile from before comes back, but laced with a sadness Keith doesn’t quite understand. Shiro pats his good arm. “What I’m about to tell you might shock you a little but… it’s 2017, Keith.”

A moment’s silence.

Keith feels the cold dread seizing him, from the ends of his hair to the tips of his feet. He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down.

Even with all of that, he can still feel the headache growing inside his head.

“So… you’re saying that… I’ve been in a… coma? For eleven years?”

Shiro’s eyes become softer. “Not exactly... You’ve lost eleven years of your memory, Keith. You have amnesia.”

He can’t tell which is worse.

* * *

 

 

After a number of checkups, and after Shiro telling him that no, he’s not just playing Keith’s doctor because yes, he _is_ one who finished his residency seven years ago, Keith finds himself alone again, with an odd feeling of confusion and despair.

Eleven years of memories… So many things could have happened in eleven years. So many beautiful and awful things that Shiro knows he went through but not him. He wonders how his studies went. Did he graduate smoothly? Did he get a good job somewhere? Where does he live now? What happened in that one TV show he was following?

...It’s strange, calling the future ‘now’ and thinking of what was his present as the world’s past. It’s strange.

It’s going to take him a long while to get used to this.

Shiro told him to try and remember the last thing that he thinks happened to him, and he tries to recall what it is that he was doing before he ended up waking in the hospital. Keith thinks back on it. He vaguely remembers walking, carrying some books, but he can’t seem to remember where he was going, or what kind of books they were. All he knows is that they were pretty thick books. Like, really _really_ thick books.

Was he wearing red shoes?

Something sharp shoots through his head and he groans. Okay, that was a bad idea. Shiro warned him to take it easy with the recalling business.

The man also told him that he’d be here a while before he can be discharged. Which is perfectly fine by Keith, because he doesn’t know where he can go or what he can do after this. It’s not like he has a family to go back to.

He still needs some time to think about how he’s in an entirely different timeline too. And all Shiro told him when he asked again what happened to him, was that he was involved in a car accident.

How and where, he didn’t disclose that information, saying that someone else is more qualified to tell him all the details.

Keith wonders about that. Did that someone see him? Was he hit while he was crossing the road? Was he the one driving? In the passenger seat? Was he with anyone that he knew? Did anyone else get hurt?

So many questions, so much confusion, so little answers.

He wishes he has someone to talk to about this, but Shiro is a busy doctor, and he doesn’t know anyone that would visit him in the hospital…

Except, maybe, the man with brown hair and blue eyes.

He briefly wonders then, could that man actually be…just perhaps, maybe...

He hears the familiar slide of the door opening and closing and footsteps walking in hesitantly. Looking up, Keith sees that it’s the exact man he was thinking about.

Oh.

Taking a closer look, only now does he notice that there are pretty big bags under the other’s eyes, and that his face seems tired and sad, even with the smile. Keith realizes he doesn’t really like that defeated look in his eyes.

“Hi.” The man says.

“Hey…”

“So…” the man rubs the back of his neck again. “What did Shiro tell you?”

“...That it’s 2017 and I have amnesia.” He says, not really able to hide the bitterness in his voice then, and he’s sorry. He gets rid of the edge from his voice, opting for a softer curiouser tone. “Do you know him? Personally, I mean.”

“Shiro? Yeah. We became friends through you.”

“Oh.”

“Are you… hungry?” the man asks.

“Not really…” Keith thinks about it. “I _am_ thirsty though.”

Without saying another word, the man nods and fills in a cup on the table using a pitcher. He brings the cup to the bed and gives it to Keith to hold with his good arm.

Keith drinks it with gusto.

Once he’s done, he notices that the man has been staring at him. He raises his eyebrows at him in question.

The man smiles shyly. “Sorry, it’s just… You’re much more beautiful when you’re awake.”

Keith almost chokes at this. Baby? Beautiful? What…

“I…” Keith finds himself gaping now. He feels himself getting hot and dizzy, and he’s kind of sure his face is red. “Are you... actually my… boyfriend…?”

“Close…” the man says, his voice having a tone that Keith doesn’t quite understand. The man digs into one of his pockets and tells Keith to stretch out his hand. He obliges.

The man places his fist in Keith’s open hand and he feels something cold and small drop into his palm. He looks at it. His breath hitches.

It’s a golden ring.

“My name’s Lance.” The man starts. He raises his left hand to show the matching ring on his finger. He smiles, but his eyes betray his melancholic emotion. “And we’ve been married for six years.”

* * *

 

 

The ring is beautiful. It’s simple, elegant, and there’s a carving on the inside that he can’t read because his vision gets blurry when he tries. He thinks he should get that checked. He might have lost some of his eyesight from the brain trauma.

...He’s not going to wonder how he knows that.

Keith brings this up to Lance when the other man drops himself in the driver’s seat of his car on the day he’s discharged. He’s already said his goodbyes to Shiro, who set up appointments with him to check on the cast and on his head.

While he waited for Lance as the man and Shiro talked for some time a distance away from him, a lot of people in white coats looked at him and nodded in greeting, and some even wished him to get well soon. All he could do was look confused and said thanks.

“We can go to to an optometrist right now, if you’d like.” Lance says, looking at him.

Keith fingers the ring that’s now around his neck on a string, because his cast goes all the way up his knuckles and he can’t wear it. He’s not even… entirely sure yet if he’ll wear it. The idea of him being married to someone is still kind of… weird, to him.

He really wonders how it all happened.

“No, it’s okay.” He looks back at Lance. “I think I want to…” _go home._

_But where is home?_

Lance seems to understand him, though. He nods his head, pulls on his seatbelt, and drives off, not saying another word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (kristin chenoweth voice) im BAAAAAACK.
> 
> man life has been stressful lately with interviews here and there to go to, phew... i just want to kick back and sleep for a century honestly
> 
> now lets move on to the second chapter of this story ;)

When they park in the driveway at what he’s told is his and Lance’s house, he finds himself in utter disbelief. It looks like something directly out a home magazine, with the clean yard and stone walls and dark elegant colour schemes.

It’s a two-storey too, and when Keith asks how did they manage to afford this, Lance says his uncle, a real estate agent, was more than happy to see one of his favourite nephews finally settling down with someone and decided to help them, which Lance admit was kind of embarrassing since his uncle even cried at their wedding day.

As Lance unlocks the door, Keith scans the neighbourhood again. He wonders if he knew any of the neighbours before his… accident. Wonders if any of the flowers were from them. He doesn’t think so, but he woke up finding himself married to someone, so nothing will surprise him at this point.

“The kitchen’s up ahead, and the living room’s to the right.” Lance says, walking towards some windows to draw the curtains back. Light shines on the interior and Keith is once again amazed at how good the furniture and decorations blend together. It’s a vintage look mixed in with some modern pieces that actually work well. And at the far end of the hallway, where he can see the kitchen and the place’s open space concept even more, he sees black granite tops and stainless steel appliances.

He lives here? Really?

“You’re the one who decorated the place, by the way.” Lance says, a smile on his face as he stands in front of Keith. “You just followed your instincts and this is the result. Pidge and Hunk are mighty jealous.”

“Huh?” Pidge? Hunk?

Lance’s face falls again. “Right. Um, they’re our friends. Pidge is a famous vlogger slash computer engineer and Hunk runs a bakery up in the city.” He has his hands in the pockets of his dark green jacket. “They’re the ones who sent you some of those flowers.”

“Oh.”

“They’re uh… kind of loud people, but they all really love you, y’know.”

“...Okay.”

…

Lance starts for the main door. “I’ll go and get your stuff! If you want to lie down, the bedroom is the first door upstairs on the right.” And then he’s gone.

Keith looks around a little, noticing how there are pictures hung up all over the place. On the walls, the fireplace mantel, and on the tables. He goes up to the one closest to him, framed on the wall.

It’s of him and Lance, seemingly at the beach, with Lance’s arms around his shoulders and his lips puckered up, trying to give Keith a kiss on the cheek. He finds himself smiling at that picture, at the ridiculity of it. Especially at how he’s laughing in the picture, trying to push Lance away.

There are more as he walks a bit further. He sees a group picture of roughly seven people, where him and Lance are in the center surrounded by a small person, a large man with kind eyes, Shiro, a man with a mustache, and a woman with long glorious white hair. They’re all smiling and laughing, arms around each other and joy in their faces. It seems to be a birthday party, if the party hats, cake, and streamers mean anything.

Another picture besides it has more people that he doesn’t know. Some of them look roughly familiar, and when he notices Lance in the picture that’s when he realizes why. Everyone else in the photo is a family member and relative to the man, all of them having the same smiles and traits.

Something tugs at his chest.

He skims over the other pictures on the wall, seeing more of the people from the first photo and even more photos of him and Lance in various situations, from a skiing trip to a picnic at the park. Most of them are selfies, but there are a number others that were obviously taken by other people.

Reaching the fireplace mantel, he feels his chest grow cold at the first portrait frame.

He sees himself in a white tuxedo with black accents and a red tie, his hair groomed and slicked back while an aged woman wearing a pretty dress looks at him using blue eyes filled with so much warmth and compassion that he feels so undeserving of. His own face reflects the woman’s emotions, though seemingly more evident than hers. He supposes he never learned how to hide his emotions properly in the past eight years.

The next picture is of him facing away from where the woman stood, looking at something from beyond the lenses. There’s something strong in picture Keith’s eyes that the living Keith can’t quite decipher...

And on the center of the mantel, a frame larger than the rest sits as a landscape, the centerpiece of the exhibit. It depicts two men standing on an altar decorated in white, a priest in between them, and a crowd of people sitting on the seats, watching the ceremony.

Vaguely, Keith can see that it’s him standing on the left on the altar.

His hands find the ring on his necklace, feeling the touch of the gold. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what this mantel is all about.

He realizes that he’s not really breathing at the sight.

Looking at the other two pictures on the right of the mantel, he’s not surprised to see that the picture directly beside the one of the altar is of Lance, also donning a white suit with a dark blue undershirt and a bowtie. His hair is groomed as well, and the smile on his face is aimed towards the picture that is the spotlight of the mantel—the one in the middle.

The last picture, the one at the far right, makes Keith smile, yet…

It’s a mirror image of the picture of Keith with the woman, but now it’s of Lance and Shiro, where Shiro has one hand on the brunet’s shoulder and a proud smile on his face. Lance is grinning, wide and bright, his eyes shut together in blatant joy.

If Shiro is there with Lance, then… his guess was right. The woman that was in the picture with Keith is Lance’s… mother.

Keith stands there by himself in front of the fireplace, feeling a mix of emotions that’s dumbfounding him. All of this that he sees, from the refrigerator to the lighting fixtures and to the pictures hung everywhere… all of this, they don’t exactly belong to him, do they?

They’re the belongings of a Keith from a time he doesn’t know, a Keith who is married and has a job, a Keith with a degree in his field of study, a Keith who actually has friends other than Shiro, and a Keith who belongs to a family so large, he would be surprised if he was able to remember all of them.

A Keith that feels so faraway, so distant.

A Keith that’s a stranger.

 

 

The ring feels cold and foreign on his chest.

 

 

When Lance finds him there in the living room, carrying the bag with Keith’s belongings and some of the flower baskets from the hospital, Keith notices that the other’s eyes are reddish and puffy.

“Sorry I took so long.” Lance laughs. “Mrs. Samson from next door caught me. There’s almost no running from her when she wants to talk!”

Keith doubts that’s what happened, but he doesn’t ask.

The brunet, putting down the bag at the bottom of the staircase, notices what Keith has been looking at. His face flushes a little.

“Uh…” Lance starts. “That’s… umm.” He looks and sounds like a fifth grader who has to talk to his crush because he was dared by his friends. Cute.

Keith finds himself laughing a little. Mostly because of how amusing it is, seeing Lance gape like a fish out of water.

“Your mom is beautiful,” he says. “I can see where you got your eyes from.”

For a moment Lance looks startled. “Do you… remember her?”

Keith shakes his head. “No… It was just easy to figure out.”

“Oh. I see.”

Another silence. They stand there in awkwardness.

“Um, have you gone upstairs?” Lance asks.

Keith shakes his head again. He doesn’t want to say he feels awkward in his own ‘home’.

“Come on.” Lance places the flower baskets on the dining room table and picks up Keith’s duffel. “I’ll show you around.”

Lance starts up the stairs, and Keith follows him. It winds up to the second floor, opening to a landing that serves as second living room.

There’s a TV here, attached to various gaming consoles that Keith does and doesn’t recognize, and some beanbags for sitting. There are some magazines placed about, and a guitar on a stand in the corner. Keith wonders which among them plays.

Lance opens the room directly to their right, introducing him to the bedroom.

It’s a little messy, but only because some clothes are haphazardly thrown around the floor. Other than that, it’s pretty clean, especially with the white and beige colour scheme, accented by some other colours, and a lot of personal items here and there.

Lance places the bag at the foot of the king-sized bed.

Keith wonders if he’s going to sleep here tonight with Lance.

...He’ll figure that out when they get there.

Lance shows him the en suite, and the walk-in closet, and when they’re done there, the brunet shows him his office—Keith has a goddamned _office—_ which is laden with psychology books and papers of records and statistics. There’s a computer on a desk in the center, and some seats, plus a long sofa by the side.

Lance is beside him throughout the entire tour as Keith takes his time inspecting everything, recognizing none of them but strangely knowing what they’re for. There’s a number of books in the shelves that attract his attention, but he decides to look at them later.

He feels something brush against his hand as he stares at one particularly thick book, and looks down to see Lance’s fingers briefly touching his own. He looks at Lance’s face, notices how hard the brunet’s trying to look casual, and turns his head to look back at the books.

He lets their fingers touch a while longer.

 

 

Lance says he’ll cook dinner for them today, and as they leave the second floor, Keith notices a room that Lance didn’t show to him.

Curious, and with Lance all the way downstairs, Keith finds himself standing in front of the door. Slowly, he turns the doorknob.

It’s locked.

 

 

That night, Lance tells him that Keith can sleep in the master, and that he can crash in the guest bedroom for a while.

Keith wants to say that he doesn’t mind if Lance wants to sleep beside him, but the words don’t come out of his mouth.

He can’t fall asleep.

 

 

His next few days are quite… complicated. He takes sponge baths because of his cast, he notices that his eyesight is better now so he might not need glasses after all, he finds out that he was alone in his car when he lost control and crashed into a tree, he reads books that he’s been told he’s read before, he learns that he’s a psychiatrist at the hospital he was admitted in (which explains why some of the doctors there wished him well), he goes to said hospital for his appointments with Shiro, and the pet cats that he and Lance have keeps him company while Lance is at work at the Balmera University

Lance apparently had left the cats with Hunk while Keith was hospitalized, and a day after he came home, he found himself affectionately attacked by a little munchkin with a red collar around her neck.

He’s laughing as the cat with tiny feet climbs all over him, to the point where he needs Lance’s help to get her off.

“Tron missed you.” Lance laughs, hugging the restless cat in his arms. She’s meowing and meowing, begging to be let go.

“Tron?”

“Yeah.” Lance smirks. “And the maine coon is Vol.”

Keith doesn’t question their naming sense. Not yet anyways.

 

 

When the weekend comes, he’s finally introduced to Pidge and Hunk. Or reintroduced, depending on the circumstances.

Pidge is a young woman with brown hair cut short and big round glasses, who immediately throws herself at him in loud tears, crying about how much he worried her when he was comatosed. Keith doesn’t realize it from the pictures alone, but she’s _small_ in stature—almost like a little girl.

Hunk is big, with a smile that matches, and there are legitimate tears running down his cheeks as he carefully wraps his arms around Keith. His eyes are just as kind as the ones in the photos, and Keith feels like Hunk is that one silly mom friend everyone has. He even has some pastries he baked for Keith, which Keith finds are _divine_.

Needless to say they’re jubilant to find that the flower baskets they gave him is being preserved.

Keith’s kind of overwhelmed by all the attention he’s getting from the two of them combined. He had expected this meeting to be awkward, but Pidge and Hunk make it impossible for it to be awkward. They would talk about what had happened while he was in the hospital, or things in a further past that Keith has no recollection of. Many times he finds himself looking at Lance for help, which Lance gladly provides by redirecting the conversation towards something else that could pique their interest.

By the end of the day, his cast is signed by two of the most cheerful people he now knows.

 

 

After dinner, he joins Lance on the sofa in the living room.

“Are they always like that?” he asks the brunet, referring to Pidge and Hunk. He fingers the little cat face drawn in green pen on his cast.

Lance only smirks. “Usually it’s worse.”

Keith groans, brows scrunched together at the thought of having to go through all of that _again._

“Don’t worry,” Lance laughs. “You’ll learn to love them.”

_Will I? Will I learn to love you?_

Keith shakes his head. Tron the munchkin is rubbing against his legs, so he brings her up on his lap with one hand, petting her ear. “Do you have any movies we could watch tonight?”

Lance hums. “Well, there’s this one movie that came out a year ago that you really loved.”

“Ah, every fan’s dream—to watch their favourite show again like it’s their first time.” He jests, a smirk on his face.

Lance looks at him and ruffles his hair, smiling. “I’ll go get it then.”

By the end of the movie—which he must admit, he actually really likes it a lot—Lance has his arm around Keith’s shoulder, and Keith is leaning into Lance’s chest, with Tron and Vol on their laps resting.

It feels so natural to be there in Lance’s arms as they sleep.

 

 

There are good days and bad days.

There are days where Keith can look at the pictures in the hallways, on the tables, on the mantle and think, ‘Oh, I’ll remember soon. I’ll get my memories back. These memories will be mine again.’

It’s the few days he thinks he can cling onto hope.

Then there are the days where he doesn’t want to leave the master bedroom’s walk-in closet, because it’s the only room in the house that doesn’t have a picture. A picture that he doesn’t remember. A scene that he can’t recall. Touches and words that are lost to him, gone inside his mind.

Most of the time it happens while Lance is at work, and by the time he’s home Keith would have gathered enough courage and strength to face him and the pictures and the unknown memories—but not today.

Today, Lance is home early. And he’s still in the closet, with tears pouring out of his eyes, because all of those strange faces that he doesn’t know, giving him—giving picture Keith—warm looks and kind eyes, it’s all too much.

He’s never imagined himself to be surrounded with that much compassion and affection. He’s never thought that he’d even have a chance to taste it. And then one day he wakes up and people tell him that he’s married to a kind and patient man, who has a large family that loves Keith like he has always been a part of them, with friends that love him just as much where they’ll get worried when something happens to him, where he’s the proud co-owner of a big house, and that he has a stable job.

It’s just. He’s so undeserving. He doesn’t deserve any of this to just be _given_ to him.

 _“Keith?”_ Lance’s worried voice slips in through the closed door. Tron and Vol are meowing outside the door too, prohibited from entrance by Keith himself.

He doesn’t answer Lance. He doesn’t want to answer. But he knows that Lance knows he’s in here, because the cats couldn’t be any more obvious. The felines barely left him alone ever since they came back, especially Tron. Lance has probably already searched the rest of the house too. Keith heard him running earlier.

_“Keith, baby?”_

His breath hitches in his throat.

_“I’m coming in. Okay?”_

Keith only brings his knees closer to himself as the closet opens a crack, letting in some natural light from the sun outside to seep in. He doesn’t dare move a muscle. He almost doesn’t dare to breathe.

He doesn’t see what kind of face Lance made when he saw him like this, but all he knows is that he’s pulled into the other’s chest for an embrace. Lance rocks him back and forth, shushing him and telling him that it’s okay to let it all out, it’s okay, _it’s okay._

Keith lets himself lean against Lance, lets his tears drop on Lance’s shirt, lets the cats come in and curl around them, purring and meowing and bumping their noses against his toes to comfort.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep, but when he wakes, he finds himself on the bed he’s been struggling to sleep in for many nights now, with Lance on his right, holding onto his good hand tightly. Lance’s other hand is caressing his hair, smoothing out the tangles and pulling gently at the strands.

He can see that Lance is also trying to be careful of his broken arm.

Keith stirs, alerting Lance that he’s awake. Lance doesn’t stop caressing his hair, but he does let go of Keith’s hand to touch his cheek.

“Good morning, mullet head.” Lance says, a hint of a smile in his voice. “We missed dinner, but if you’re hungry I can cook something up real quick.”

Keith blinks, rubbing one of his eyes. Did he really sleep for that long? Did Lance keep him company through it all? Did he really just spend his evening lying in bed with Keith, playing with his hair and holding onto his hand?

A warm feeling blossoms in Keith’s chest, followed by something cold arising at the pit of his stomach.

Wait a second…

Keith makes a face, looking at Lance. “Did you just call me mullet head?”

Lance makes a face too, like a deer caught in headlights. He looks like there’s something he wants to say, an explanation perhaps, but the words don’t come out of his mouth.

Keith sighs. He moves himself closer to Lance. “Whatever. If you let me sleep a bit more, I’ll let it slide. Then we can get some late dinner.”

The brunet, astounded, grins and hugs Keith a little bit tighter with one arm.

 

 

The cast comes off. It’s been four weeks and a couple of days. He’s a little sad to see the green and yellow cats drawn by Pidge and Hunk go.

Shiro asks him how’s life living with Lance. Keith says he doesn’t know what to feel, because he can never lie to Shiro. Not ever.

Shiro only nods. He assigns Keith to physical therapy appointments and refers him to a doctor that can help him with his amnesia.

Lance is waiting for him outside, and when Keith waves at him with his healed arm, the grin that split Lance’s face is blinding.

He’s gathered up in a tight hug, no holds barred. Keith hugs him back, not as firm, but it’s enough.

He still wears the ring around his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, i hope youre enjoying my story so far :")
> 
> please leave a kudos or a comment of your thoughts! they'll make my day (read: week) if you do (even if i dont reply to them asdfgh)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnd another new chapter!! its a bit longer than the rest hmmm
> 
> life has been weirdly optimistic lately!! well, i guess i should say im the optimistic one?? idk, i just feel good, and that's a good thing. if youre feeling good lately too, cherish it my buddy!! feel good feels are awesome and you deserve to feel good too!!

Without the cast, he feels like he has one less burden. He feels lighter, freer, more adventurous. Maybe a little bit more reckless.

He decides to try cooking when they get home.

“Are you sure?” Lance asks as he unlocks the front door.

“I want to try it out.”

Lance looks at him for a while. He nods.

Before Keith starts, he lets himself explore around the cupboards, looking inside the refrigerator for ingredients, and feeling the equipment around the kitchen.

The knife feels the most natural in his hand, he finds. He takes out some pasta, some tomatoes and vegetables and decides he’ll cook Italian tonight.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to run up and get one of the cookbooks we have?” Lance asks, sitting on one of the stools at the island.

Keith rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. He smirks. “Underestimating me is your first mistake, honey.”

They both freeze.

Keith immediately turns his back to Lance, feeling his face burn up at the slip. Oh Jesus, why did he say that? Why in the world did he let himself say that?!

He doesn’t want to turn around and see Lance’s reaction, but he finds himself sneaking a glance over his shoulder anyway.

Lance is hiding his face behind both hands, his ears visibly red from this distance. Keith feels his heart do a flip at the sight.

An image flashes behind his eyes, of Lance in the same position, but in a different setting, with a different feel. He blinks and the image is gone.

Odd.

He turns back to his ingredients and starts cooking.

 

 

Lance says his spaghetti tastes amazing. He also asks him if he had memorized a recipe.

Keith says he was just following his heart.

The brunet smiles like he knows something. Keith doesn’t want to ask.

But Lance can see that he wants to know. So he tells.

“It’s the same recipe you always use every time you make spaghetti.” He explains, the smile still there but a little sadder. “It’s my favourite one.”

Oh, that’s why.

 

 

That night, it’s more comfortable for Keith to sleep without his cast. But it doesn’t mean he falls asleep any easier.

 

 

The following few days pass him in a blur. Because of his amnesia, he’s not allowed to go back to work. And also because of his amnesia, he has to see someone to try and cure it.

His doctor is a pretty blonde lady named Nyma, who’s sweet and kind but also layered with a ton of sass and smack talk.

After a couple of visits that don’t really have any progress, she tells him that she’s actually a frenemy of his from work.

Keith blinks at her. He thinks he’s making a pretty confused face right now. “My frenemy…?”

She giggles. “Yeah. Lance and I used to date back in college.”

 

 

He doesn’t know why she told him that. His mind tells him he should be alert. But his instincts say that there’s a deeper reason to why she did it.

He just can’t figure out why.

 

 

Vol is the only one asking for food right now, with her bright blue eyes and matching collar and soft mewls. She curls around Keith’s legs, not as excited as her feline companion when it comes to life. Tron is somewhere in the living room, probably asleep or playing on her scratching post. There’s never an in-between with that munchkin.

Keith’s opening the cupboard where the cat food is when the doorbell rings. Stumbling and trying not to step on the maine coon, he drops the cat food on the island, and rushes for the door.

The visitor rings again just as Keith unlocks it. “Yes?” he says.

Pidge beams up at him. “Hey Keith!”

Of all the people to visit him, he surely wasn’t expecting her.

“Pidge? What’re you doing here?”

The young woman invites herself in, a backpack slung around her shoulders seemingly heavy with things. “I was in the city vlogging about my food hunt and felt like seeing you! How’re you feeling these days?”

Keith closes the door behind him. “Pretty okay, I guess…”

“From your lack of enthusiasm talking to me, I can assume that you still don’t have your memories back?” Pidge turns around to face him and tilts her head. She doesn’t seem bothered or worried at all to be bringing up the topic.

Feeling no need to lie, Keith shrugs and shakes his head. “The doctor said there should have been progress by now, but I don’t know. I still don’t remember anything.”

“Who’s your doctor?”

“Nyma.”

Pidge’s eyes grow wide. “You mean _the_ Nyma?”

Keith looks at her. “Yeah. So you know her?”

They’re already at the living room then, and when Tron sees them coming, she meows in greeting.

“Yup. We talked sometimes when she and Lance dated.” Pidge turns her head to study him. Keith bends to pet Tron on the head. “I see.” He says.

“...You don’t look all that surprised.”

“Because Nyma already told me.”

Pidge takes the silence to think about what he just said. “So she did, huh.”

“She did.”

“Do you have any clue why?”

Damn, Pidge has a lot of questions. He finds himself sitting down on one of the sofas and the woman follows suit, sitting across from him.

“No, not really. I don’t think she means harm.”

At this, Pidge finally smiles. A smile that looks like it has some secrets eager to be shared. “I think so too.”

Keith only looks at her, still not really comprehending the meaning behind her words. He wants to ask her what she’s thinking, but he’s not really sure how to go about it.

“You want to know what I’m thinking, don’t you?” Pidge grins cheekily, wiggling her eyebrows.

Keith must’ve made some kind of surprised face or whatever, because she starts laughing, snickering behind her hand.

“It’s written all over your face.” Pidge says, still smirking. “You can never hide what you’re thinking, Keith.”

The man crosses his arm and he looks away, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Don’t look so annoyed.” Pidge rustles through her bag. “I actually dropped by to show you something.”

She takes out a couple of flash drives. Keith looks at her as she fumbles at the TV with them, plugging one in. Grabbing the remote, she turns the TV on and sits next to Keith.

“What is it?” Keith asks.

Pidge gestures towards the TV. “Watch.”

She taps some buttons on the remote, chooses a file labeled _2006 - 2008_ , picks out a video, and presses play.

The first thing he hears is screaming laughter. The second is the splashes of water.

The camera finally stops shaking, and Keith sees himself in red swimming trunks, holding a water gun and laughing as he attacks Shiro with stream after stream of water.

Shiro is laughing too, but his gun is out of water, so all he can do is take cover from Keith behind Hunk, who seems terrified to be used as a human shield. Pidge is screaming something at Lance offscreen and then she runs into the camera’s point of view, shooting at Lance with her own gun, who’s chasing after her with a large gun of his own.

She keeps missing him and before she knows it, she trips and splashes into the pool. She raises her hands in defeat, whining about how Lance is cheating.

A man with orange hair and a mustache announces that only two people remain standing in the water gun war. The one holding the camera laughs, her voice sounding melodious and enchanting. _“Good luck, boys!”_ she calls out.

Lance, smug grin and all, turns to face Keith. _“Looks like it’s just you and me, mullet head!”_ he says.

Video Keith smirks. _“Bring it on, lover boy.”_

The Keith watching all of this doesn’t know what to say or how he should react to this. It’s another part of his memory, another part of his past eleven years that he can’t recall. That he can’t remember.

“When… When was this?”

“Probably nine to ten years ago?” Pidge says, fixing her glasses. She pauses the video. “This was the time when you started developing feelings for Lance, I think.”

“...I did?”

“Yeah, you talked to me about it.”

Keith looks at her. He’s having a hard time believing that. But in the same time, he can actually imagine it.

Pidge looks back at him. She smiles, and there’s something warm in her eyes. “We’re actually much closer friends than you think, y’know.”

She begins to recount their story. She tells him how, at first, they were only classmates for an English Literature class. They worked together sometimes on assignments and whatnot, and when Keith was desperate for more help because he’s a _psychology_ student, he wasn’t made for all these metaphors and metonymies and ironies, and Pidge herself was no good in the language department because _she_ was in computer engineering, she asked her good friend Lance to help them out.

Her friend, Lance.

Lance, with his pretty blue eyes and bright smiles. Lance, who was an English major and a major flirt with people using his poetry. Lance, who was always annoyed by Keith and who he always started fights with. Lance.

All of that turned into friendly fights sooner or later, especially with Hunk around to pacify them. The more the four of them hung out, the closer they got to each other as they got into trouble, caused problems, and had good healthy fun. Not long after, Keith introduced them to Shiro, who was more than happy to meet his new friends. He never stopped teasing Keith about it.

They then met Allura and Coran through Shiro, and their circle of friends just grew.

It was a couple months, maybe even a year after the group was formed, that Pidge noticed Keith started acting a little bit differently around them—specifically around Lance. Especially around Lance. Even moreso when he talked about his girlfriend of the time, Nyma.

It was only after one big argument that Keith had with Lance did Pidge go up to the black-haired boy and said, “You like Lance, don’t you? And I mean _like_ like.”

Taken aback and shocked into silence, Keith begrudgingly admitted to it, and that he doesn’t know what to do because he’s pretty sure that he’s being really obvious.

Pidge comforted him by saying that Lance’s too much of an idiot to notice.

So, dragging Keith all the way to Shiro—who was also worried by the fallout between him and Lance—the three of them had a heart-to-heart talk about the topic, and what’s the best way to go around it.

Keith was adamant on not wanting Lance to find out about how he feels, so they let him be with that decision, but they did urge Keith to apologize to Lance—he _was_ the one who started it in the first place.

So he apologized. Lance forgave him. They were friends again.

That is, until Lance announced he and Nyma broke up.

It was so out of the blue, and so uncharacteristic of him to be the one to break it off, that it understandably shocked everyone to the core.

Everyone’s thrown another curveball when Lance confessed that Keith is the one his heart wants.

Apparently, after the big argument, Lance had his own talk with Hunk, Allura, and Coran. And the conclusion that they all came up with at the end of that talk was both as simple as it was complicated—so they let Lance decide what exactly was best for both him _and_ Keith.

They didn’t expect him to do it like this. To do it so soon.

But maybe it was the right move after all. Because Keith had pulled Lance aside immediately, and the two of them seemed to have a heated argument in the distance from the group. And when the argument looked like it escalated, Keith grabbed Lance’s shirt by the collar and kissed him. On the mouth.

Even from afar, they were able to hear the words Keith said next. _“Can’t you see that I fucking like you too?!”_

By this point of the story, the present time Keith feels so embarrassed by what he’s hearing he has to hide his face behind a pillow. “Did I really do that?!” he shrieks, panicked eyes looking at Pidge. He knows that it’s very likely he did. He just doesn’t want to believe it. At least, maybe, not yet.

Pidge is laughing, blatantly amused by Keith’s reactions. “And after that, you guys argued again because Lance wouldn’t believe you. With all that frustration and tension in the air, it quickly turned into a full blown make out session.”

Keith is covering his ears by then, completely unsure whether or not he wants to continue listening to this. His face is burning red right now for Christ’s sake!

“Allura and Shiro hurriedly put a stop to it though because we were in public, and Coran was trying to cover my eyes from seeing it for _some reason_.” You can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s still a bit sour over the incident. “It’s not like I’ve never seen people go at it before!”

The present Keith is shaking his head at all of this. The secondhand embarrassment is too much for him. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can take.

“And, well, I guess you two had a proper talk about your feelings for each other after that because the next thing I knew, you’re dating him.”

Pidge falls silent, gauging his reaction. Keith merely stares at her, his cheeks still pink.

“Is that the end?” he asks.

Pidge grins. “Well, it never really ended, did it? You’re married to him.”

Reminded of that fact, Keith finds his blush growing again. He rubs the back of his neck, still sensing Pidge’s eyes on him.

He feels her hand on his shoulder.

He looks at her. She smiles, a soft sweet smile.

 

 

Pidge gives him both of the memory sticks before she leaves. She tells him each one has various pictures and videos of the time they spent together categorized by year.

Keith watches in chronological order.

In the first stick, which is the same one that Pidge plugged into the TV, there’s a significant amount of pictures of them as students in university and on trips and whatever shit they pulled to have fun in the _2006 - 2008_ folder.

He sees himself looking at the camera in one picture during class, not really smiling, just making a peace sign, and looking bored as hell.

There are pictures of Lance and Hunk goofing off, and then of Pidge and Hunk, and then of Lance and Pidge, each one almost as ridiculous as the next.

Then there are pictures of all of them together, and even more candid photos of everyone doing random mundane things. There’s one of Hunk cooking something in a kitchen, one of Lance swimming in a pool, one of Pidge on her computer completely focused, and one of Keith at fencing practice. There are some of Shiro, and the two people he assumes must be Allura and Coran that Pidge spoke of before.

There’s only one other video in here besides the one that Pidge showed him.

He plays it and Lance’s face is the first thing onscreen.

Lance is snickering, trying to contain his amusement and barely able to hold up the camera. Then he makes a shushing motion towards the people standing behind the camera, who were also snickering, and starts sneaking into the door behind him.

The camera, instead of showing Lance’s face, now focuses on Lance’s target—someone sleeping on a table.

It’s Keith.

Lance can be heard laughing behind the camera, and he flips it over for a second to grin and wave into the lense, Pidge and Hunk behind him, also snickering. The camera focuses back on Keith, who still slept peacefully, his hands curled around his head.

The present Keith watches as Lance, with a bottle in one hand, dumps water on the sleeping Keith.

The Keith in the video sputters and screams. He stands up so abruptly that his chair falls over. There’s laughing heard in the background and panicked shouts as Keith glares at the culprits and gives chase.

In between all the laughing and screaming, he can hear his own voice shouting, _“I’m gonna kill you all!”_

Lance must’ve dropped the camera or something, because the next thing he sees is a blur of everything. When the camera lands upside down, he can vaguely see in the corner of the screen a view of him grabbing onto Lance and both of them tumbling to the ground.

The real Keith puts his hand over his mouth, covering his smile.

Vol comes to him, pacing the living room floor impatiently and begging for food. She looks angry that she’s forgotten.

He unplugs the flash drive in the TV and keeps them both in a private drawer in the closet.

 

 

He asks Lance a question that’s been burning inside his mind.

“Which one of us plays that?” Keith points towards the guitar.

Lance looks at it. “That old thing?” A grin appears on his face as he takes the guitar from its stand. “Me, mostly. I tried teaching you, but you clearly don’t have any musical talent.”

“Oh, really?” Keith coos. “Maybe you’re just a bad teacher.”

“Wanna prove that theory of yours?”

“I’ll bet you five dollars I can learn a song by the end of the day.”

“I’ll bet you ten that you can’t.”

Keith smirks. “You’re on, lover boy.”

Lance’s embarrassed and surprised face is worth paying that ten.

Though, he supposes, Lance got even when he made Keith sit in the brunet’s lap as he taught him the chords to _Closer_ from The Chainsmokers.

 

 

He watches more of the videos and looks at more of the pictures that Pidge gave him.

He finds out that he met Lance and Hunk in 2007. That he got together with Lance in 2008. That Lance proposed to Keith when 2010 was just ending, and they were married halfway through 2011.

He gets especially embarrassed that one of the folders is completely dedicated to the preparations, event, and honeymoon of his and Lance’s wedding.

One of the videos is right before the ceremony starts. Keith can tell, because he sees himself on screen, looking sick and nervous as hell, in the same getup as the picture on the mantle. His hands are visibly shaking as he plays with his hair.

Shiro is beside him, looking sharp in a suit as he laughs. He removes Keith’s hand from ruining his hair. _“Everything will be fine, Keith. Calm down.”_

_“What if something happens? What if one of Lance’s exes come and crash the wedding? What if a meteor comes and hit us? What if we get attacked by a swarm of alien bugs?!”_

At this point, Pidge points the camera at herself, and rolls her eyes. She’s wearing a dark green coloured assemble, a cute and elegant dress from what he can see of it bust-up. She says to Keith, _“Wreck-It-Ralph is just a movie, y’know!”_

_“I know, but still!”_

The camera moves back to the two men, where Shiro is holding Keith by his shoulders and forcing him to stop moving. _“Listen to me. This is your day, and this is Lance’s day. Nothing will happen, and it’ll be the happy ever after that I’ve always hoped for you.”_

For a moment, the present Keith can hear Pidge gag through the speakers before Shiro glares at her from the corner of his eye. Keith sees her smile sweetly in a reflection on a distant mirror.

The video Keith takes in a deep breath and exhales slowly. He inhales again, and lets it out. If the camera isn’t lying, then he’s pretty sure there are tears forming at the edges of the video Keith’s eyes.

He and Shiro hug, and he hears himself whisper, _“Thank you, Shiro… Thank you.”_

Present Keith thinks Pidge is going to poke fun again, but when the camera moves to her face, she’s just smiling genuinely into it and wiping her tears with a handkerchief. _“Damn it,”_ she whispers into the camera as she walks away from the two of them. _“I was saving this thing for later, but damn it, Keith.”_

He smiles as he watches that.

 

 

The video of Lance is a little... worse?

Lance is pacing the room, mumbling things to himself in English, but sometimes a little bit of Spanish slips out.  He sits on a single chair, then starts pacing again, and sits down again, before he starts pacing again. Hunk watches him helplessly, seemingly given up on trying to calm him down. A woman stands by the corner. Keith knows it’s Lance’s mother from the way she’s shaking her head, a soft smile on her face.

Pidge turns the camera towards herself, showing off the deadpan expression on her face. She seems to be looking at Hunk. _“Seriously? He better not be talking about an alien bug species invading the ceremony.”_

A soft voice echoes and the camera turns to Lance’s mother, who’s covering her mouth trying to hide an amused smile. _“I assure you Pidge, he is not.”_ Then she moves towards Lance, and cups his face in her hands. She says something in Spanish, and whatever it is that she’s saying, it seems to be working, because Lance relaxes into her touch. And despite him being taller than her, he leans into her shoulder and sighs.

Keith feels something warm in his chest.

 

 

He watches the rest of the files in that drive with that same warm feeling, especially during the ceremony.

Except, it’s also accompanied by a heavy guilt settling at the pit of his stomach.

 

 

He gets a bad feeling about the last folder in the second flash drive. It’s one of the latest ones, _2014 - 2016_.

Tron curls around him on the couch after he’s plugged the drive in. He grabs the remote and finds himself surprised to see not as many pictures as he’s used to, and only a couple of video files.

Frowning, he plays the first one.

Immediately he sees himself onscreen, hugging his knees to his chest on the floor of a disgustingly white hall, far away from the camera. It doesn’t seem like he’s noticed he’s being recorded.

The camera moves to showcase Pidge as the one filming, her eyes dark and puffy, the usual cheery shine in her face gone.

 _“It’s_ — _”_ she tries to talk but her voice is hoarse. She coughs. _“It’s been 24 hours since Lance’s accident.”_

Keith stops breathing.

 _“We’re still not sure yet how bad it is,”_ she bites her lip, eyes tearing up. She wipes them away. _“We’re all trying to stay strong, especially his mom and Keith. So Lance, if you watch this in the near future,”_ here she smiles through her tears. _“Fuck you and your sorry ass for making us go through this. You’re lucky all of us love you.”_

The video shows Hunk walking towards Pidge with drinks in hand, before it cuts off.

Keith still isn’t breathing.

Dazedly, almost unconsciously, he plays the next one.

The video this time has Pidge seemingly lying down on a row of waiting chairs, the camera held high above her face as she sways it left and right. She doesn’t look any better than the other video.

 _“It’s a few hours now. Shiro says Lance’s doing okay, but for some reason he’s not out yet.”_ Her voice isn’t as hoarse as before, but it still sounds dry. _“Hunk’s gone to get a change of clothes for all of us. I’m still angry. And Keith hasn’t eaten a single thing. I’m angry.”_

She looks like she’s trying to make an angry face, but it comes out defeated instead.

 _“I’m angry.”_ She stresses.

 

 

In the next video, which he hopes has more answers, he sees that it’s of Allura, Coran and Lance’s mom trying to coax him from the floor with something to drink, and hopefully something to eat. Video Keith doesn’t even shake his head, he merely stays still and stubbornly glares at the white floors.

 

 

For the last video, it seems that Pidge doesn’t even realize she’s recording.

The camera is on a table, the seconds ticking away with nothing happening. The lense is trained towards one end of the hallway they’re waiting in, Hunk in the far left corner of the screen appearing to be staring at a magazine he’s holding. Occasionally, a doctor or a nurse will walk by without a second glance.

He can see Pidge’s legs as well, swinging back and forth, but not her entire profile. He’s not sure where he is in this video, but he thinks he must be on the other side of the hallway, away from the lense of the camera.

He thinks ten minutes must’ve passed by like this, ten minutes where he sits quietly on the couch, afraid of fast forwarding the video, afraid of what he’d find out. He tries to reason with himself that things went okay, that this was years ago, that Lance is fine now and living and breathing and perfectly healthy.

He still can’t help feeling scared.

Another fifteen seconds later, and out of the top right corner of the screen, he sees Shiro approach them. Video Keith is immediately by his side, a blur of black zooming out of the opposite corner of the screen.

Present time Keith sees that Video Keith is wearing a dark green jacket, with yellow stripes on the biceps and a white hoodie at the back. The others also crowd around Shiro, with Allura, Coran and Lance’s mom appearing from where Keith had been.

He doesn’t really hear them, mostly because everyone’s talking all at once, but once Shiro manages to quiet them down, Keith can hear his voice come in through the video clear and soft.

 _“He’s fine. He’s okay.”_ He tells the group. Then, Shiro seems to be looking at Video Keith and Lance’s mom, addressing them specifically. _“They’ll let in the next of kin, so you can go in to see him, but…”_ he trails off, frowning, because Video Keith is already running away after a nod from Lance’s mom.

The rest pester him to continue what he was going to say, especially the mother who looks ashen. Shiro, who is still frowning, merely shakes his head.

_“You’re not going to like this, but… Lance has amnesia.”_

The group gasps and falls into a hush. Present Keith himself isn’t quite breathing.

_“What?!”_

_“He doesn’t remember anything. Not his name, not his family, not his friends. Nothing.”_

Keith is barely registering these words, let alone the video itself. He feels the world around him tip and fall over, the air stale and his skin numb.

He takes in a deep breath. He counts to ten and back. He exhales.

The TV screen is back at the menu.

He grabs the remote, numbly taking note that his hands are trembling, and he turns the TV off.

...

Did Lance ever get his memories back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, do leave kudos or a comment of your thoughts!! they fuel me and keep ALIVE I FEED ON THEM im kidding im not a vampire (im also kidding. i am one)
> 
> (also i love cliffhangers, dont you? ;) )


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got sick with a fever on my first day of a long break from work and boy lemme tell you, i slept for like 20 hours (insert crying emoji) one whole day of break wasted because i have a weak body
> 
> anyways, this is a pretty short chapter compared to the rest, but its an important one!! i broke my heart writing it HAHAHA...ha.... (hope it'll break yours too *blows kiss*)

When Lance comes back during the evening, he has a bouquet of flowers with him for Keith.

Keith hugs him in the hallway, burying his face in the other’s neck. There’s something heavy in his chest, but he ignores it as he tightens his arms around Lance.

The brunet returns his gesture, and when Keith asks him why he suddenly got him flowers, Lance replies with a wide smile. “It’s because I haven’t done it in so long, and I miss seeing your face when you get them.”

Keith feels his heart flip.

He pulls Lance into the living room, the bouquet cradled close in his arms. He never realized how much he likes flowers. Is it something that he developed over the years? Because he certainly remembers not really caring about flowers before he woke up. And now, he likes them so much he’s tending to them like they’re his own children.

Strange.

“Lance, I need to talk to you.”

The brunet’s face instantly changes from adoration into one of apprehension. “Is something wrong?”

They sit together on the loveseat. Keith is still cradling the bouquet. He has Lance’s hand clasped in one of his.

He has to do this now, before he chickens out.

Keith take a deep breath and starts. “Pidge… she gave me these flash drives. It’s filled with pictures and videos from the years that I don’t remember.”

Lance relaxes a bit, but his shoulders are still a little tight. Keith rubs circles on the back of Lance’s hand.

“In one folder… there’s videos and pictures…” here, Keith looks at Lance, and Lance does the same. There seems to be some sort of resignation in Lance’s brown eyes. Keith takes another deep breath. “Of you in the hospital. You lost your memories.”

A defeated smile crosses Lance’s features. “Yes, I did.”

“...Is it okay… if you tell me about it?”

They fall into silence. Lance looks down at the coffee table, his eyes distant. Keith squeezes the brunet’s hand, his heart thundering in his chest.

“It was… awful.” Lance breathes out. He looks at Keith, and smiles, his eyes going soft. “Though, it wasn’t so bad either. I had no idea who I was, no memory of a childhood or anything. And it was scary. But in the same time, it was… calming. It’s like I was in a void. Just... existing.

“But, it didn’t last long. I was sent to stay with my family instead of you in hopes that I’ll gradually remember who I am first, and you visited from time to time, but, uh... it didn’t go so well.” Lance scratches his cheek. “I wasn’t getting anything back, and my family was trying really hard that I started feeling guilty for not remembering, for not knowing them.”

Lance takes a pause here. He tightens his grip on Keith’s hand.

“So I ran away.”

Lance laughs a little, probably at the look on Keith’s face. “I had no idea where I was going. I just took my jacket that morning and… left. They called you immediately when they realized I was missing and it took all of you hours, but…” Lance raises their joined hands, holding it with both of his, and he turns his body to face Keith. “You found me. You found me in some cruddy old gas station, in the middle of the night, with nothing on me but the clothes on my back, shivering like hell in the bitter cold.” He chuckles again. “Honestly, you looked so angry I thought you were going to kill me.”

Under the circumstances, Keith wouldn’t be surprised.

“But you didn’t. You just kicked the ground a couple of times, cursing under your breath, and then hugged the living daylights out of me. You didn’t even say anything. You just held me tight and didn’t let me move until _you_ stopped shaking. It felt like forever before you gave me your jacket and finally took me here, took me _home,_ on your bike.”

Lance looks up and Keith finds himself staring into a pair of bright blue eyes that are shining with so much adoration, it’s choking him.

“It was on that bike ride, with someone who is my husband yet a total stranger, that I realized… I never wanted to let you go.”

Lance gently presses his lips against Keith’s hand.

“I never want to let this go.”

 

That night, just before Lance goes into the guest bedroom to sleep, Keith catches the end of his sleeve.

“Um…” Keith starts, but he doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say. His lips open and close, the words not forming.

“Tonight… you can… Uh…” Keith’s cheeks feel red. Why did he decide to do this? Why did he decide this is a good idea?

Lance is looking at him expectantly. His eyebrows raised, he says, “I can…?”

There’s a smile on Lance’s face and a hint of amusement in his blue eyes. Keith feels like punching him for that. Does he really need to say it out loud?! Can’t he figure it out by himself?!

His face growing hotter, he lets go of Lance’s sleeve and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Looking away, he stutters. “S-Sleep… in the…” Keith gulps. He takes in a deep breath. “You can sleep in the master with me.”

He doesn’t get a response immediately, but Keith can feel the other step closer. He looks up, and finds the other’s face only a few inches away from him.

Lance plants a kiss on his cheek.

Keith stops breathing.

The brunet pulls away, grinning. He hugs Keith tightly and escorts him away from the guest room.

“I’m so glad you asked!” Lance announces, the joy in his voice unhidden.

As Keith looks at the sparkles in the other man’s eyes and the sunshine in his face, Keith thinks that he’s glad he asked too.

 

They sleep like logs that night, with Lance’s arms secure around him.

 

The next morning after Lance leaves for work, Keith holds up the wedding ring against his finger to see how it looks like.

He kind of likes what he sees.

 

During the next weekend, Lance tells him to get ready.

Keith raises his eyebrows. “Is there an appointment I forgot about today?” he doesn’t think there is. He tries to memorize the date for each one.

“Yup!”

Still confused, Keith asks. “With who?”

Lance grins. “Me.”

The blush Keith has is as bright as a rose.

Once he’s cleaned up, he puts on a fresh baggy sweater because this time of spring it’s still cold, and he’s slightly panicking inside— _where is he going to take me is this a date this is a date isn’t it_ —as Lance leads him to the car and they drive away.

“Where are we going?” Keith asks about ten minutes later. None of the roads they’ve taken is familiar to him—which isn’t saying much, considering that he’s still an amnesiac.

Lance merely smiles. “You’ll see.”

“How informative. Much enlightening.”

Lance snort-laughs and turns on the radio. “Just enjoy the ride, mullet head. I promise you’ll love my surprise. And are you seriously quoting old doge memes?”

They exchange a few words after that, jests and jokes, before they let the music from the radio engulf them. Keith stares outside his window to admire the scenery, finding house after house flying past. Soon, the houses fade into forests, dark and green, with the occasional clearing. He sees a house or two as well in this area, almost as if misplaced by the homeowners.

They’ve been on the road for so long that Keith’s sure he’s fallen asleep for at least twelve hours. Well, it feels like twelves hours, but his watch says it’s only been fourty minutes since they left.

Groaning, Keith tries to straighten up in his seat. “Are we there yet...?”

“Almost. Go back to sleep if you can, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

Keith falls asleep again so fast, he almost doesn’t notice the endearment.

 

The next time he wakes up, it’s to the sound of his name repeatedly said, and someone shaking his shoulders.

“Keith. Keeeith.”

“Mmmm.”

“Come on sleepy head. We’re here.”

Keith stretches, rubbing his eyes after. He blinks rapidly and looks around. They’re parked in front of what seems to be… a restaurant?

“Are you hungry? Because I am. Wait here, I’ll get your door for you.” Lance announces, shutting off the engine and winking before he steps out of the car. Keith smiles fondly, the butterflies in his stomach waking up as well.

Lance leads Keith out of the car and towards the restaurant, which doesn’t really look like a typical fancy restaurant nor a casual family one. There’s a semblance of romance about it, with the magnificent view of the lake and gazebos on the water, but still retaining a homey feel with the main area having dark wood flooring and brick walls, along with wooden chairs and white-clothed tables.

A waiter seats them, and from then on Keith thinks he’s having one of the best evenings he’s ever had, with or without amnesia. Lance seems unable to stop being sweet, always having a joke up his sleeve, and he constantly has something to talk about with Keith. Not to mention the repeated use of endearments and sly compliments that has Keith turning bright red.

The food and music are brilliant as well, and Keith definitely wouldn’t mind coming here again in the near future.

They finish their ice-cream desserts, and Lance pulls him onto the dance floor despite Keith’s protests.

The band is playing a classic romantic number, one that sounds familiar to Keith, yet he can’t recall the title of the song. Lance holds onto one of his hands, and places his other hand on Keith’s waist, grinning as he starts to sway them from side to side.

_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_  
I could stay lost in this moment forever  
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

The sun had started to set a while ago beyond the horizon, colouring everything it can touch with its orange hues and shades of yellow. The reflection it leaves on the lake’s waters is blinding and breathtaking, and the light is without a doubt the reason why Lance’s blue eyes are shining in gold.

Keith can’t look away.

_Don't wanna close my eyes_  
I don't wanna fall asleep  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby  
And I don't wanna miss a thing

Lance is still swaying them, their feet gradually growing closer, and their foreheads almost touching. The brunet has a soft smile on his face. He too hasn’t looked away from Keith since they started their dancing, if it can be called that.

Keith feels the blush rise up to his cheeks, his heart thundering in his chest and ears. He can’t tell if his stomach is full from the food earlier or from the raging butterflies that are rioting inside.

_'Cause even when I dream of you  
The sweetest dream would never do_

By now Lance is holding Keith within his arms, his head leaning against Keith’s, uncaring if anyone stares. Keith can’t help himself—he shuts his eyes, smiles softly, rests his forehead against the other’s shoulder and lets himself breathe in the scent that’s _Lance._

Keith feels a press of lips against his eyelids.

_I'd still miss you, baby  
And I don't wanna miss a thing_

His breath hitches in his throat. When he opens his eyes, Lance grins at him with a blush decorating his cheeks.

Keith feels like he’s flying.

 

After they dance to one more song, Lance leads him to the lake where they take a stroll under the sunset on the boardwalk, their eyes soaking in the view.

Hand-in-hand, they continue on in relative silence, except for Lance’s humming and the occasional bird cry. The fresh air clears up Keith’s mind, and he finds himself wondering over something.

“Have we… been here before?” Keith asks.

Lance, who’s still looking out at the lake and the sunset, stops walking. He visibly takes in a breath.

“We have.”

“Oh.” Keith says, because what else is really there for him to say? He doesn’t remember this place. But it certainly feels like a good place.

“We come here every time it’s our wedding anniversary.”

...What?

Now this—this new information has Keith reeling. He’s gaping when Lance turns around, a pained expression on the brunet’s face despite the small smile.

“Happy anniversary, Keith.”

Keith shuts his mouth immediately. His throat goes dry, his tongue becoming a weight in his mouth. A heavy cold settles inside his stomach, like all the butterflies from earlier turned into a butterfly graveyard.

Lance lets go of his hand.

“It’s okay,” the brunet says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. There’s a bit of a stutter in his voice. “You don’t have to force yourself or anything. I just wanted to say that you brought me out here too, when I was still amnesiac during our anniversary.”

Oh.

Keith crosses his arms, unsure of where to put them. He can imagine himself doing that, if he was in Lance’s shoes. He wonders how it must feel like, now that he’s thinking about it. To have a spouse that doesn’t know who you are and it’s your wedding anniversary…

It must be awful.

“You know…” Lance speaks up. He’s leaning his arms against the railings of the boardwalk, his back to Keith. “There are still some things that I don’t remember about my life.”

Keith waits for him to continue.

“I can’t remember the time I broke my arm, even though my mom said it happened in high school. I can’t remember our first kiss, even though you, Pidge, and Hunk told me all about it. And…” Lance buries his head in between his arms, his voice cracking. “I can’t remember our wedding day either.”

Keith tightens his hands into fists.

“Which sucks, really.” Lance tries to laugh it off, but it comes out a little broken. “I mean, it’s probably one of the best days of my life, if the videos and pictures mean anything… But I don’t remember it. And now, neither do you.”

Lance finally turns around to look at Keith.  “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

Keith steps forward, holding Lance’s face within his palms. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” He sets his jaw, feeling determined. “You have been nothing but sweet and patient with me ever since I got out of the hospital, more than what I deserve. If anything, I’m the one who should apologize to you for not remembering anything yet.”

He brings their foreheads together, his eyes closing, his heart thundering to an invisible rhythm again. “But you probably wouldn’t like that. So, I’m going to thank you instead.”

Opening his eyes, Keith breathes out at the sight of bright blue, tinted orange from the setting sun. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”

It takes a moment, but Lance smiles, genuinely this time, and places his hand over Keith’s. He leans into the shorter man, closing his eyes as he does so.

Lance chuckles, and Keith feels a little confused.

“Are you sure you don’t remember this place?” Lance says, taking Keith’s hands away from his face and holding onto them tightly. “You thanked me for the exact same thing before, right here, in a setting just like this one.”

Keith purses his lips, furrowing his brows. “That just means it’s true, isn't it?”

Lance laughs, his face glowing and not just because of the sunset. “Then let me return the sentiment.” The brunet plants a chaste kiss on Keith’s knuckles.

“Thank you for not giving up on me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont you hate it that the first chapter's end notes are on ALL the other chapters like @ ao3 wyd bro thats not how this is supposed to work?? like, on an optimum level i mean. actually idek what optimum level means it just sounds cool im sorry im a dork who's salty over double end notes
> 
> also the song used in this chapter is "I Don't Want to Miss a Thing" by Aerosmith, which is a legendary song amen praise forever love it i'd name my first born after it (cries)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theyre cutting my hours at work since im just a part-timer, oh dear... i might need to go job hunting soon since the pay will definitely not be enough... shame, i really like working there too. oh well, things happen and we just have to move on! it'll work out somehow yes (flexes)
> 
> a much longer chapter this time! (to make up for the last chapter's shortness? maybe? who knows) so many things happened! so many wonderful things! but oh dear im getting slower at writing and this story might not end at 6 chapters like i thought it would?? maybe 7...hmmm mayybee...
> 
> do enjoy! \ w /

“Mom wants us to come over for dinner tomorrow.”

Keith almost falls off the chair he’s sitting in.

“What?” the black-haired man says incredulously with furrowed eyebrows. The surprise and disbelief is evident in his voice.

Lance turns around to face him after he puts away a dried plate, but doesn’t meet his eye. The brunet looks away sheepishly from his spot at the kitchen sink. “I mean, my mom, she’s having this big family gathering, and she wants to see how you’re doing…” he purses his lips, “and everyone else misses you too…? I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s completely understandable, I’ll talk to her, and you don’t have to worry about it anymore until you—”

“Lance.”

“...Yeah...?”

Keith smiles softly at how nervous Lance is.

“I’ll go.”

Lance brightens up, but deflates almost as quickly. He looks almost like a big old doggy. “Are you sure…? I don’t want you to force yourself or anything!”

Keith gets up from sitting at the kitchen island and walks around it to meet Lance. He looks at the other man right in the eyes, his arms crossed.

“I’m going, Lance. I want to go.”

Lance’s smile creeps up slowly on his face, but it’s a smile nonetheless, bright and happy, and Keith counts that as a victory.

The next day comes faster than he anticipated, and as Keith’s in the car with Lance on their way to an unknown place, the anxiety finally hits.

Is this a good idea? Is he rushing into this? What if things become horribly awkward? What if he completely ruins things because of his amnesia?

He’s playing with his seatbelt, twisting and turning and pulling it around, and he’s sure Lance notices by now, because the brunet squeezes his knee for a bit before focusing on the road again.

“It’s not too late to back out, you know.” Lance announces as they stop at a red light. “We can go grab a pizza instead, and I can call mom to tell her what happened.”

Keith semi-glares at him. “Who says I want to?”

Lance smirks. “Right. Keith never backs out of anything.”

They start down the road and Keith is feeling nervous again. He grips his hands into fists, trying to ground himself.

“What if… What if I fuck things up?” Keith says, his head bowed.

He feels Lance’s hand on his knee again, squeezing tighter this time. “You won’t.” Lance reassures him. “Just be you, okay?”

Keith thinks twice before he places his own over Lance’s. In response, Lance turns his hand over so that their fingers intertwine. Keith feels a blush rise up his cheeks at how their hands fit and how warm Lance is, and a giddy smile reaches across his lips.

“Okay.”

After what feels like forever, Keith starts to see glimpses of the ocean, and he feels a little excitement rise inside him.

“You used to live close by the sea?” Keith asks, eyes not trailing away from the blue expanse.

“Yeah.” He can hear the smile in Lance’s voice. “My childhood home is practically on the beach.”

“That’s so cool!”

Lance laughs lightheartedly. “Wait till you see it! I can show you around in the morning too since we’re staying the night.”

Keith thinks about seeing the place where Lance grew up in, and he almost doesn’t feel the bad nervous butterflies anymore.

“I like that idea. I like it a lot.”

They’re driving on sand, and Keith points at house after house, asking Lance if that’s the one, or if _that’s_ the one, and Lance keeps on saying no with a laugh and a ‘we’ll be there soon’.

At one of the houses, there are two boys around nine to eleven years old playing soccer in the sandy yard, chasing each other and laughing in joy. One of them sees the car approaching, and immediately screams.

The two children abandon the ball and chase after the car as Lance parks a little ways away from the two-storey house the kids were at. Keith can hear them chanting _“Uncle Lance! It’s Uncle Lance!”_ even before Lance opens the door.

“Hey, Erik! Mark! How’re ya?!” Lance beams, picking the blond one up as they both chatter in rapid fire succession. “Ooh, did you get taller, Erik?” Lance asks the one still on the ground.

When Keith steps out of the car, the two boys fall silent.

That tinge of nervousness comes back full force. Keith tries to smile and does a little wave. “Hi?”

To his (and Lance’s) surprise, the one called Erik bursts into tears.

“Uncle Keith!!” he shouts and runs right into Keith’s arms.

The man stumbles a bit, literally not knowing what to do with a _crying child in his possession uh, help. 911, National Guard, anybody?!_

The kid is still sobbing, wetting Keith’s shirt with big drops of tears and wails and probably snot too. Keith looks at Lance for help, but Lance himself seems to be in shock.

Keith turns back to the crying boy. He has to do _something_.

Gently, Keith pries the boy’s arms away from around his hips, and lowers himself to eye-level with him. He wipes away the child’s tears with his thumb, gently smiling. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, You don’t have to cry. I’m here.”

In between hiccups, Erik says, “But Uncle L-Lance told us, that y-you don’t remember us! Like how he u-used to not remember u-us! And t-that, there’s a chance y-you won’t come back!”

Keith manages a quick glare at Lance, who smiles guiltily. They are _so_ talking later.

Turning back to Erik, Keith pats the kid’s cheeks, not really knowing what else to do. “You’re right, I… I don’t remember who you are, but it doesn’t mean I won’t come back.” The man smiles. “Besides, I’m sure my memories will return sooner or later.”

Erik seems to calm down a bit. He sniffs, wiping his nose with his sleeve, before hugging Keith tight. Now Keith doesn’t really know what else to do other than comfort the boy, and Lance is only smiling at him.

He’s saved by a familiar looking woman walking off the front porch towards them. It takes Keith a second later to realize that it’s Lance’s mom, her hair greying yet eyes still kind, and Keith’s nerves spike up almost immediately.

“Oh, Erik, come to grandmama…” she calls out and the boy runs into her waiting arms, wiping his tears and snot.

Keith stands up rigidly, feeling awkward as she calms the boy down. Lance goes to kiss his mother on her cheeks before standing next to Keith, Mark still quiet in his arms.

When Erik is silent, the aging woman finally turns her attention to Keith.

If Keith’s not wrong, he thinks her eyes are watering with tears.

With Erik holding her legs, she brings Keith into a tight embrace that lasts for what feels like forever. Keith is overwhelmed by how _safe_ she makes him feel, and how much she radiates love for him, that he has to hold back tears of his own when he slowly hugs her back.

They’re invited inside and Keith is greeted by more of Lance’s family members, each one either patting him on the back, hugging him tight, or kissing him on the cheek and telling him how glad they are to see him.

He meets siblings, cousins, and some aunts and uncles, and more nephew and nieces who miss playing with him dearly. One niece in particular named Sylvia, who has an adorable little lisp, starts crying about how _Uncle Keith won’t take her to the amusement pawk anymow because he doesn’t wemember the pwomise he made with her!_ and Keith’s heart utterly breaks. He promises her he’ll take her soon, whether he remembers her or not, and he means it.

Lance takes him up to the the room they’re staying in for the night, which he explains used to be the room he shared with some of his brothers before it turned into a guest bedroom after they all moved out.

When they’re all set up, and with dinner still some time away, Lance shows him around the house he grew up in.

Keith gets to hear childhood stories of fights and games, and of accidents that become loving memories. Most of them make him laugh, and once in awhile one of Lance’s siblings would jump in with an embarrassing story of Lance of their own, which either would have Lance screaming or laughing at the end with them.

At one point, Lance’s eldest brother takes them to the garage, saying he has something for Keith.

Keith, not really knowing what it could be, is definitely taken by surprise when he’s presented with a drop dead gorgeous black superbike.

He swears his eyes are practically sparkling. He looks at Lance, who smiles and nods, before he even dares to approach the beautiful beast.

The paintjob looks fresh and sleek, with neon purple highlighting the shape of the bike’s matte black finish, and Keith thinks twice about placing his finger on the front tank cover, almost afraid he’ll taint it.

“It’s a Ducati SuperSport, and she’s yours.” Leo, Lance’s eldest brother, says with a wide grin.

“What? Really?” Keith gapes. Is it a gift? It can’t be, right?

“Yeah, sure she is! You spent forever saving up for her, and she’s basically your little baby.” Leo places a hand on one of the handles. “You sent her to me to get her painted before you got into that car crash.”

Keith looks up, his eyes wide. Then he turns to Lance. “Is this the bike that…?”

“It sure is. She was all red before though.” Lance looks at the bike with something in his eyes. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he asks almost wistfully.

Keith realizes that what he sees in Lance’s eyes must be the memories they’ve made with this bike that he can’t remember. A different kind of something tugs at his heart.

He’s at a lost on what to say, when Leo intervenes. “You wanna take her for a spin?”

The excitement must be evident in his face, because the two brothers laugh at his reaction before he’s handed the keys.

“Are you sure I can…?” Keith starts, but Lance cuts him off.

“Keith, you might be amnesiac, but I know for a fact you can ride a motorbike.” Lance smiles. “It’s always been second nature to you, probably even more than walking.”

Keith grins. “Since I probably don’t remember the area well, I might need a copilot with me.”

A twinkle appears in Lance’s eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

“ _Just_ a copilot?”

“I’m sure he can do a lot more than give directions.”

“Oh God, you two are as flirtatious as ever.” Leo grimaces. “I’m going to hurl into this bucket if you don’t get out of here with that bike right _now_.”

Keith and Lance look at one another before bursting into laughter. They grab a full-face helmet and a jacket each, and with Lance’s arms wrapped around Keith’s waist, they’re out of the garage in no time.

 

Lance is right.

With the wind blowing against him, the noise deafening his ears, and the tarmac shooting past under him, Keith honestly feels like he’s flying.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, but he follows where the road leads him, taking lefts and rights and anything in between. Some roads feel familiar, and some are complete strangers, yet the ocean is always within his sights. And Lance’s warm body pressed against his back is a constant reminder and comfort that he’ll never be lost.

And nothing ever felt so right.

 

It feels like forever of smooth riding has passed when Keith feels Lance hold onto his left elbow and squeeze.

Somehow, for some reason, he gets the message.

_Pull over._

So he slows down the bike, and stops them by one of the large shady pines, the ocean just barely peaking through the other trees around them.

Lance gets off and takes off his helmet as well. Keith does the same, and when Lance looks at him the brunet laughs.

“Babe, you look like you just won a million bucks!”

“What?” Keith says, but then he gets it. He’s sweaty and he’s breathless and his cheeks ache. Has he been smiling this entire time?

He laughs with Lance.

He parks the bike, the beautiful, beautiful superbike, properly and takes off his jacket to place against the roots. Lance does the same and soon they’re both resting under the shade of the large tree, their shoulders bumping into each other.

“Your hair’s a mess.” Keith says. He lifts up a hand to ruffle the brown hair even more.

“So is yours.” Lance says with a small laugh. He tries to do the same to Keith, but Keith catches his wrists just in time and holds them in place.

He grins. “Nope, not happening.”

Lance pouts. “Fineee.” He whines, before a devious smirk appears on his face. Keith catches on too late, and before he knows it, he has a lapful of Lance’s head.

The brunet grins up at him. He gets comfortable, squirming a bit and closing his eyes, before saying, “In return for not letting me touch your hair, you now have to let me nap in your lap.”

“Lance—” he starts, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks, but the brunet shushes him.

“Sshhh, I’m trying to sleep.”

Keith gives in, a fond smile on his face. He’s already let go of Lance’s hands earlier, and the brunet crosses them over his stomach.

The wind blows the salty scent of the sea towards them, rustling the leaves above so that some fall into their presence. The springtime weather leaves him feel a bit chilly, but Lance’s body heat warms him up enough.

Keith too closes his eyes, resting his head against the tree trunk, and letting his fingers play with Lance’s hair.

Moments pass by, with only the occasional gust of wind, chirp of a bird, or the passing of a car to break the silence, before Lance speaks up.

“Hey, Keith…?”

Without opening his eyes, he answers. “Yeah?”

“How’d you know I wanted you to pull over…?”

Keith’s eyes open at that. He looks down at Lance, and if it weren’t for the question earlier, he would’ve thought the brunet was truly asleep.

“I… don’t know, honestly.” Keith explains. “I just… knew. Like how I knew that spaghetti recipe you like so much.”

Lance opens his eyes. He sits up slowly, his back to the tree and his eyes trained on Keith’s. The blue in his eyes look deeper right now, not unlike the colour of the ocean that’s just beyond their reach.

Keith feels jolts of electricity when Lance’s fingers trail up his hand and arm. He’s frozen in place, not daring to move, not even when Lance’s hand cups his face.

His heart thunders inside his ear, deafening him. The feel of Lance’s thumb caressing his cheek leaves him breathless, and Keith finds himself leaning into the touch—leaning into Lance.

He closes his eyes, his hands shaking, when he feels the press of the other’s lips against his own.

His mouth opens almost instinctively and he swears he sees bursts of colour behind his eyelids, tastes the sea on his tongue, and feels fire deep in his bones.

They kiss again and again, and Keith feels faint. He feels the highest of highs, and the loudest of louds. He feels everything all at once, blinding him, overwhelming him.

He doesn’t want it to stop.

They pull away, gasping for breath.

Keith’s mind is still racing, his lips feeling empty and bruised. He rests his forehead against Lance’s, breathing in deep, feeling the other’s body heat resonate through their clothes.

He opens his eyes at the same time as Lance. The brunet looks flushed, his hair even messier than before, and his pupils looking so wide Keith can clearly see his own reflection in them.

Knowing he probably looks the same, Keith can’t help a little laugh escape him. Lance must’ve thought the same thing too, because the next thing they knew they’re both laughing and stealing kisses from each other here and there.

“We should probably get going. Dinner’s going to start soon.” Lance says, standing and pulling Keith up with him. He then bends down to pick up their jackets, helping Keith into his own.

Lance is fixing the collar on Keith’s when he smiles and says, “Can I have another kiss before we go?”

Keith leans in close, close enough that their lips are just barely touching, before he places a finger between the two of them and smirks. He whispers into the other’s ear, “Maybe later, lover boy,” and heads off towards his bike.

The look on Lance’s face is priceless.

 

Dinner was a lively event. Everyone talked and laughed and drank so much it was almost chaotic. The children spilled food here and there, and most of them were excited about Keith’s presence at the table.

The adults were equally glad, and even held a short prayer for Keith’s health and memories.

Later in the living room after he finished helping with the cleaning, the entire family gathered in front of the TV for more stories and games.

All in all, it was a fun evening for Keith, and not once was he allowed to feel unwanted or out of place, considering they all talked with him and made him comfortable.

In the dark of the night, when it’s just him and Lance in their room, all cuddled up in the small bed with the moon shining on them from the window, he braves himself to kiss Lance’s lips and whisper that he’s glad he decided to come.

“I’m glad too.” Lance whispers back, a warm smile on his face. He holds Keith’s cheek with one hand, not unlike how it was earlier beside the road, and caresses Keith’s pale skin.

Keith feels the size of his heart grow from the gentle touch, and he leans into the other man’s fingers, breathing in his scent that reminds him of the oceans, snow and something that is so unexplainably Lance.

“Keith…?” the brunet says his name so softly, almost like it’s made of glass.

“Yeah...?”

“I wish you could remember.” There’s a smile on Lance’s face as he says this, a soft, gentle smile. But there is a depth in his eyes, a darkness that is lost and alone and wistful.

Keith takes the other’s hand in his. “I wish I could too.” His eyes well up with tears. “God, I wish I could too.”

Lance quickly wipes away a stray tear, his lips pressed into a thin line. He brings Keith’s head into the crook of his neck, patting his hair, kissing the top of his head and whispering reassurances that everything will be okay, that it’ll all work out.

Keith wants to believe it.

For that night, before he drifts to sleep, he truly does.

 

They’re woken next morning quite rudely for breakfast by little Sylvia, who came crashing into their room squealing with her toys in her arms.

Lance is moaning from the floor, since he fell off the bed when Keith jolted awake because of Sylvia’s screams.

“Oh my _God_ …” Lance groans. “What _time_ is it?”

“It’s nine. Get up sleepyhead.” A voice calls from the doorway. Lance’s elder sister, Rosa, smirks at them as her daughter, Sylvia, clings to her thighs.

“Dang, I was kinda hoping to catch you two in action.” She says, disappointment in her voice.

“Wha—” Keith starts but shuts his mouth immediately. His face turns red at what Lance’s sister is suggesting they were doing.

_Oh my **God**._

Another groan comes from Lance. “Rosa, I’m not a teenager anymore. And did you really want your daughter to see that? She’d be traumatized!”

Rosa shrugs her shoulders. “Eh, she’ll be learning about the bees and flowers one day anyway. Now get up from the floor, breakfast is ready.”

Before she goes, she winks at Keith and whistles, “Still lookin’ good kid.”

Keith has no idea how to reply to that.

Lance growls at his sister as she prances off.

The door closes behind her, but the two men in the room remain quiet and still as they think about various things.

Keith in particular suddenly can’t stop thinking about the innuendo that Rosa provided. It makes him feel all tingly inside, and makes him want to burst in embarrassment as he realizes, _Oh, they probably already did it before._

The thought is replaced by the memories of before he fell asleep last night, of how comforting Lance was, and Keith feels a little less embarrassed.

Vaguely, he can somehow recall Lance himself crying as well.

He looks over the side of the bed at Lance, who’s been staring at the ceiling unmoving, and he notices that the brunet's eyes are a little red and puffy.

Lance sees him looking and gives him an almost puppy-like grin nonetheless.

“Wanna go get breakfast?”

 

Breakfast is another lively event, but less so than yesterday’s dinner, since most of Lance’s siblings and relatives returned to their own homes during the night.

And the only reason it’s lively is because of the hyperactive children running around and creating chaos, whereas most of the adults are still blearily trying to wake themselves up from their sleep spell.

Lance is among them, and it’s clear as day to Keith that this entire family are not really morning people. Minus his mother and Rosa and Keith himself plus the children, everyone else seems like they’ll fall asleep on their breakfast plates.

The two of them are sitting together, side by side, and Keith’s in the middle of eating his pancake stack when he feels a weight on his shoulder.

He looks and isn’t at all surprised to see Lance leaning into him, his eyes closed and his breathing slow.

A fond smile forms on Keith’s face. “Do you want me to get you some coffee?” he asks in what almost sounds like a whisper.

Lance nods his head slowly, but he has his arms wrapped around Keith’s left arm, and it doesn’t seem like he wants to let go.

“Um, Lance—” Keith says, but then a fresh mug of coffee hovers in front of his face and he stops.

Rosa smirks and nods at Lance’s direction as she hands over the mug. Keith mouths a thank you to her, settling the mug on the table first to adjust Lance’s position on his shoulder.

“Come on, drink your coffee.” Keith says, shrugging his shoulder a bit to get him to wake up.

Lance whines something unintelligible. It takes him a few more tries and Keith twisting his neck to get his ear closer before he can hear, _“Do it for me…”_

Keith can’t help laughing. “Okay you big baby, at least sit up straight.”

“But I’m _coooold._ And you’re _waaaarm._ ”

Keith picks up the mug of coffee and holds it in front of Lance’s face. “Come on, open up. You’ll feel warmer after.”

Lance whines a bit more before he relents and does as Keith tells him.

As he’s letting Lance drink, Keith notices Lance’s mom and Rosa looking at them with amusement in their eyes. Suddenly aware that they’re not alone, Keith feels the blood rise up his cheeks as he realizes that he’s pampering Lance.

It’s a given, isn’t it? Lance has been spoiling him ever since he got out of the hospital, despite his amnesia. He’s treated him with so much patience and kindness, more so than Keith probably deserves.

It’s not his fault if he—

Keith’s train of thought stops abruptly.

He blinks, staring into an empty space between jars on the kitchen counter.

Did he… was he…?

“Hey Lance?” Leo calls from the doorway, having eaten his breakfast earlier. A wrench is clutched between his hands, and he’s soaking wet from top to bottom. “I need your help with the pipes at the back. They’re acting up again.”

“Leo! You’re gonna ruin mama’s floors walking around like that!” Rosa scolds, holding onto Sylvia with one hand before she can run off to play in the wet puddles her uncle is leaving.

“Again?” Lance groans. “I’m coming.” He moves to stand, and Keith leans away from him to give him space, but the brunet sways on his feet, grabs him by his face, and kisses him square on the lips.

Lance tastes like coffee and honey.

“I’ll take you on that walk I promised you after this is done babe.” Lance says to him with a cheerful voice before following Leo out the dining room and to the back of the house.

Keith’s face is positively burning from the casual display of affection in front of Lance’s family.

Rosa smirks at him before she drinks the last of her coffee and announces that she’ll keep an eye on the two Fix-It-Felix Jrs. at the back, and scoots off with her daughter in her arms.

Now it’s only Keith and Lance’s mom.

Keith gulps, feeling understandably awkward as he bites on the last of his pancakes, but when he sees that Lance’s mom is only looking at him with fondness only a mother is capable of, he relaxes.

After they finish cleaning up the dishes and table together, Lance’s mom leads him to the living room, saying there’s something she wants to show him.

“Us McClains have always been partial for photos,” she starts. “We take as many photos as we can and have them developed to be placed in photo albums and frames.”

That explains all the camera yesterday and all the framed pictures in his and Lance’s house and in this house.

She sits beside Keith on the couch, with an album in her arms almost as thick as a fantasy novel and one that probably has seen better days from the looks of it.

Keith watches with interest as she flips open the book, and he’s immediately greeted with pictures that are yellowing with age and creased from previous times of being held.

They look through baby pictures, birthday pictures, first day of school pictures, graduation pictures and everything and anything in between.

There are pictures of a really young Lance, holding up a gold medal and grinning into the camera with a peace sign in front of a pool. There are pictures of him and his siblings playing and wrestling one another, of the entire family on holiday trips, and of Lance’s mother and father showing affection for one another.

And then there are pictures of hospitals and a funeral.

“Lance’s papa… My dear sweet husband…” Mrs McClain starts. “He died of a heart attack when Lance was still in high school.”

Keith finds himself holding her hand to comfort her.

“The family was in a dark place for a long time when he left.” She looks up into Keith’s eyes, her own watering slightly. “I’m sure he would’ve loved you if you ever met.”

Keith doesn’t know what to say to that.

She tells him more stories of Lance’s father, of the shenanigans he pulled with his children when he was still alive. There was the time with the clown fiasco at Lance’s birthday party, the time when Rosa’s prom got into the news, and the time Leo’s wedding got hilariously interrupted by lost school children.

There are some stories about the younger siblings, with the youngest one in the family just starting college this year. When Rosa rejoins them, she has her own stories to tell, ones that happened in school and when the siblings went out together to hang and cause mischief.

Keith’s personal favourite so far is the Ice Cream and Taco Fiasco in Wendy’s.

In the midst of all the laughter and reminiscing, Keith finds himself once again feeling comfortable with this family, like… he knows them.

An overwhelming sense of despair threatens him as he grows quiet, as he lets his thoughts grab onto him and suffocate him. But before he can feel himself shutting down, a pair of wet arms wraps around his neck and he screams.

Lance, still holding onto Keith, laughs. He rubs his day old stubble against the pale man’s cheek and earns himself another scream from Keith.

“ _Lance!_ ” Keith shouts, feeling drips of water sliding down his back.

“Lance, you’re ruining mama’s sofa!” Rosa sounds horrified, as if she just watched her little brother throw her own daughter across the room.

“Lance, Leo, you’re both soaking wet.” Mrs McClain points, disapproval in her voice as she acknowledges the multiple puddles on the floor. She puts the photo album further away from them, just in case.

Lance only grins mischievously, while Leo does the same from the doorway.

“At least the pipe’s fixed!” Leo exclaims with pride. “This time, hopefully, for good.”

“It better hold.” Lance says, sounding a bit sour. He pulls himself over the back of the couch and into Keith’s lap. “I didn’t get this wet for nothing!”

“Oh ha ha. I can tell you’re enjoying yourself.” Keith pinches Lance’s nose, already resigning himself to his watery fate. He’s almost as soaked as Lance now anyway.

Lance grins at him from his lap, and with the stubble, the wet hair, and the drips of water all over his face, the sight of him makes Keith’s heart run a marathon.

 

They go on that walk that Lance promised him.

The salty sea breeze smells like comfort, and the sand in between his toes tickle him as he walks hand-in-hand with Lance at the edge of the water.

They talk about things, about Lance’s family (where Lance keeps telling Keith that he’s part of the family too), about how the cats might be doing at home, about their friends, and about everything else in between.

The topic of Keith’s amnesia, and of Lance’s amnesia, is spoken in soft whispers almost drowned out by the sound of the waves and wind.

“What if I don’t remember… What if I never get my memories back?” Keith asks, his voice low but the fear loud.

Lance brings their foreheads together, his eyes closed and both of his hands holding onto Keith’s.

He doesn’t say a word, but Keith can feel the brunet’s fingers tremble.

 

When they get back to the house, Lance tells him to shower first because he has to talk to his mother.

He kisses Keith softly on the lips before he goes.

As the raven finishes his shower and grabs a towel, the shine of the ring around his neck in the mirror catches his attention.

He almost forgot about it.

Keith holds the golden band gently in between his fingers. Its weight doesn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and it almost feels like he has the right to hold it—maybe even wear it properly around his ring finger.

For a crazy, wild, split second, he wants to.

But then he sees the engraving inside of the ring—the words he couldn’t read before—and he stops.

_You are my home. —L_

Keith takes in a deep breath.

He pulls on a shirt and leaves the room.

 

The house sounds relatively quiet inside with the children and the other adults playing outside. He’s already gone to see if Lance is with them, but is disappointed when it’s just Rosa, Leo, and Leo’s wife.

Rosa suggests he try the dining room or living room, and he decides to head for the latter first. As he reaches the French doors that lead into the living room, he hears the voices of the people he’s looking for through the thin walls.

_“I’m glad you talked to me about this my sweet, but… are you sure?”_ Lance’s mother says, but something about her voice makes Keith stop moving altogether and crease his eyebrow.

It sounds… different. Strange.

_“I know mama, but… I don’t know what else to do.”_ Lance replies.

That’s when it clicks.

They’re speaking in Spanish.

And he understands them completely.

Keith presses his back against the wall, a subtle headache forming in the sides of his skull.

He doesn’t know Spanish. Right? Right.

He recalls all those times yesterday when somebody spoke in Spanish and he had no clue what they were saying. Lance would translate sometimes if it was something funny, and Rosa translated the nasty ones that Lance refused to.

This… can’t be happening right now, can it?

He didn’t just _suddenly_ gain knowledge of the Spanish language, did he?

Another throb in his head, and Keith can barely keep his focus.

_“Nothing good comes out of keeping secrets, you know this.”_ Lance’s mother says, almost scoldingly.

Keith shouldn’t be listening to this conversation. This is a private talk between Lance and his mother. He doesn’t have the right to be eavesdropping on them like this.

In a defeated voice, Lance says, _“...Even if it’s for his own good?”_

_“You can’t be sure what’s good for him.”_

_“But I don’t want him to stay with me just because he feels like he has to. And if he finds out about it, he’ll never leave even if he really wants to. You know how he is, mama…”_

Are they… are they talking about him?

The headache jabs him in a sharper angle now. Keith groans as he slides down the wall to the floor.

He wants to get up, but his head hurts so much it takes all his energy just to sit upright. He can’t even keep his eyes open anymore.

He hears hurrying footsteps approach, and a gasp.

“Keith?” Lance says, the worry evident in his voice.

The raven tries to answer, tries to tell the brunet that he’s fine. But he can’t, and all he can do is press the palms of his hands harder against the sides of his head to at least curb the pain, even by just a little bit.

He feels hands on his shoulders, feels himself being moved around, and suddenly there’s a soft familiar warmth of someone’s chest against his back instead of the cold hard wall.

Keith feels another set of fingers massaging his temples, and he groans. The pain subsides slightly, but it’s not enough. He still feels like there’s a knife wedged deep inside his brain.

Baby tears well up in his eyes and before he passes out, he hears Lance whisper shakily in his ear.

“You’ll be okay. I promise you, you’ll be okay.”

_...Will I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry that's all i have to say for myself in my defense


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaAAAAA im a day late updating this, i'm sorry! i wasn't done with the chapter yet when the time to update rolled up and i was so stressed out :") (which is a good thing, because i haven't felt stressed in a while, and SOME STRESS CAN BE HEALTHY no don't listen to me im not a doctor)
> 
> anyways, here's the update! and i didnt get to beta read this so im sorry for any and all inconsistencies and mistakes if there are any?? gosh this story is so close to finishing but i don't know if i can speedwrite it all in one chapter for the last chapter, so that's why i upped the total of chapters to 8 just in case! if i can wrap it up in the next chapter, the 7th, then, LUCKY ME I GUESS?
> 
> also: a SHOUTOUT TO MY FRIEND KIYO AKA elysianseoul ON AO3 FOR HELPING ME WITH SOME PARTS OF THIS STORY (like the engraving in keith's ring i fockin Died when she gave me that line to use MMM) AND ALSO WITH MY OTHER KLANCE STORY IDEAS youre the true mvp and I LOVE YOU!!

Nyma turns around, clicking her tongue and pursing her lips at her clipboard.

Keith watches from his place sitting on the bed, his eyebrows furrowed tight.

After what feels like an eternity, Keith sighs. “Well?” he grumbles impatiently.

Nyma looks at him, at his tapping foot, and then back to her clipboard.

Keith wants to scream.

After he passed out that day, Lance had carried him into their bed and waited with him until he came to.

When he did wake up eventually, he couldn’t get the conversation he overheard out of his mind. He could barely look at Lance in the eyes, not even after they drove back to their house.

Now he’s waiting for what Nyma has to say after he’s told her the weird language thing and other stuff that’s happened since their last appointment.

He didn’t tell her about what he overheard, of course. She’s his brain doctor, not his therapist.

“You’re sure you still don’t remember any of your memories from these past eleven years?” Nyma asks, pressing the end of her pen on her lip.

Keith rolls his eyes. “For the thousandth time, no.”

“But you somehow already know most of the things in the textbooks you’ve been reading?”

“Again, yes.”

“In that case, if you take an exam, you might be able to go back to work soon.” Nyma says, finally meeting his eyes. “Your memories however…”

Hearing that he could be going back to work is both exciting and intimidating, but there are really more pressing matters at hand.

“That’s great and all, but what about me suddenly being able to understand Spanish?”

Nyma blinks. “Oh? Lance didn’t tell you?”

Keith grits his teeth. He tries to hide his clenched fists. “Tell me _what?_ ”

“You took a Spanish course a few years ago. Your amnesia must’ve made you lose that ability for a while, but exposure to the language must’ve brought it back.”

“Of _course_.” Keith tries to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but he fails.

Nyma notices, and her forehead creases.

“You’re agitated today.”

“And the grass is green.” He bites back.

The blonde woman sighs. She puts down her pen and clipboard and takes off her glasses before turning her office chair to face him fully.

“Trouble in paradise?” she asks.

Keith glares at her. He crosses his arms and bites his tongue to stop him from saying anything.

Nyma sighs again, this time holding her chin up with her hand. “Look Keith, I know I said I’m your frenemy or whatever, but I do miss our occasional coffee breaks together where we make fun of the other nutjobs here. If there’s a problem but you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine. But at least reach out to Shiro.” She raises an eyebrow. “Or better yet, talk to the source of the problem.”

“Who says I have to talk to Lance?” Keith snaps.

Nyma raises another eyebrow. “Who said anything about Lance?”

In that moment, he doesn’t know who he hates more. Nyma, or himself.

When she finally releases him from the appointment, he walks out feeling just as aggravated as he walked in.

Lance waves at him from the waiting area when he sees him, but Keith still can’t really look at him, so he thunders past with his arms crossed towards the exit.

He knows Lance follows, but he doesn’t see the pained expression on Lance’s face.

When Lance pulls up in front of their house, he says he’ll be back late tonight and leans in for a kiss before he goes back to work.

Keith pulls away before he can.

He doesn’t see the heartbroken look in Lance’s eyes.

“I’ll see you later.” Keith at least says, before he steps out the car and into the house.

The raven locks the door behind him. He stands there with his hands on the knob, waiting, and waiting, before Lance finally pulls out of the driveway.

He lets go of the breath he doesn’t realize he was holding.

 _God,_ what is he doing?

 

The next few days he finds himself still treating Lance with that same indifference.

He doesn’t admit that it’s hurting him too.

 

Keith gets a call on his new phone.

He was spending the day reading some of the books he hasn’t ‘reread’ from his office, not really feeling like going out, even though his bike that Leo came by to drop off the other day is sitting in the garage, when his phone blares his ringtone loudly.

Other than Lance, he’s never really gotten any calls from anyone else before. And with how things are between him and the brunet right now, he’s not really expecting him. Not to mention he’s still getting used to using smartphones too.

A little bit apprehensive, he puts away the textbook he’s reading and answers.

“Hello?”

 _“Hello?”_ a familiar smiling voice echoes. _“Keith? It’s me, Shiro.”_

Keith starts smiling too. “Shiro! What’s up?”

_“I was wondering if I could drop by and visit you. See how you’re doing, y’know?”_

“Of course you can, why would you even need to ask?” _Because he’s Shiro, that’s why._

“Alright. I’ll come by after my shift ends this afternoon.”

The call ends. Keith looks at the clock. He wonders if Shiro had been working all night and morning. If he has, he wouldn’t be surprised. That’s just how Shiro is. Always working. Almost never taking a break.

Shiro willingly coming to visit Keith might be one of his first initiatives to ‘resting’ in a long while.

 

When he opens the door, he finds himself greeting not only Shiro, but Hunk as well.

“Hey!” Hunk booms, bright smiles and all. “Sorry I came unannounced, but Shiro dropped by my bakery before he came here and told me he was coming over so I thought, hey, why not, y’know?” he shakes a little basket covered with a cloth, and Keith can smell something _amazing_ in there. “I brought a little something to make up for it! Hope you don’t mind…?”

He seems genuinely worried that Keith wouldn’t like unexpected visitors. The smaller man finds himself smiling. “Of course I don’t.” _Not when it’s people like you._ “Come on in.”

He tells them to make themselves comfortable in the living room. Vol, upon seeing Shiro and Hunk, immediately jumps onto the sofa with them and purrs and butts her head against their hands. Keith finds himself staring.

Vol does not beg for hand pets.

With one finger pointed at the incredulous scene—Shiro and Hunk are both coddling over the maine coon, _oh my god_ —Keith says in a grave voice, “How are you getting her to do that?”

Hunk and Shiro both look up simultaneously, and blink.

“Do what?” Hunk asks, one large hand still on Vol’s head.

“She never begs me to pet her!” Keith says.

“Vol’s always been such a sweetheart with us, don’t let it get to you.” Shiro says with a laugh, one hand scratching the cat’s chin. Then he coos at the cat, and Keith’s eyes bulges.

He feels a little betrayed by the maine coon honestly, since she only ever begs for _food_ from him. But he feels a bit better when Tron comes running into the living room and jumps into Keith’s lap, meowing and asking to be pet as well.

Sigh, what a good kitty.

The three of them fall into conversation over Hunk’s pastries after Keith brings out drinks for them, starting with Shiro retelling his experiences with some weird and/or demanding patients the last few weeks. Keith finds the one where Shiro has to argue with an old lady the most humorous, considering that Shiro is too much of a golden boy to do anything worse than smile wearily and nod at old people.

Hunk shares some stories of his own as well, from disasters in the kitchen due to experiments, to petty customers that make him wonder why he opened up a bakery in the first place. He goes on to add a heartwarming tale about a little girl choosing a cake for her mother earlier in the week though, and says that moments like those are what he treasures most.

Keith feels a little out of place, not having anything interesting to tell them since he’s cooped up in the house all the time, but he does recall the tale of Tron bringing home a dead rat the first time, and how much that freaked him out. Or the time there was a huge spider in the kitchen during dinner, and he and Lance were both screaming and running around trying to kill it or get it out while Vol or Tron were not of any help at all that time, ungrateful cats.

By the time the pastries are gone, they’re a laughing mess, the cats have gone to play by themselves, and Keith’s butt is sore from sitting too long.

Shiro, after drinking from his glass, clears his throat. With an almost sly smile, he asks, “So Keith, how is it between you and Lance? You guys went to visit his mother the other day, right?”

Keith stops laughing immediately. He bites the inside of his cheek and doesn’t meet Shiro’s nor Hunk’s eyes.

“It was… okay. We’re okay.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see Hunk and Shiro looking at each other and raising their eyebrows.

Vaguely, he remembers Pidge telling him he’s readable.

Damn it.

“Keith? Is there a problem between you and Lance?” Shiro asks.

“If there is, you can talk to us about it?” Hunk adds softly.

Keith looks between the two of them. Crossing his arms, he immediately feels guilty for ruining the mood. He doesn’t want them to bother or worry about him any further, but he knows Shiro would only bring it up again in a later time, and Hunk would probably worry about it until it’s solved.

“There’s no problem.” He finds himself saying, the regret for lying already nestling in his heart. “Why should there be a problem?”

“Because we’ve known you for years.” Shiro says.

“So we know when you have a problem.” Hunk adds. “Also, you’re not really good at lying. Or, hiding your emotions for that matter. Just saying.”

Aggravated, Keith sighs and leans back into his seat with his arms still crossed. “I’m well-aware.”

The three of them fall into silence, with Shiro and Hunk looking at him expectantly, and him looking up at the ceiling as he shakes his knee up and down.

From the kitchen, he hears Vol and Tron chasing each other.

In the distance, a grey car passes by.

The clock on the wall ticks its seconds away.

The ceiling fan spins and spins and spins…

“Urgh, fine!” Keith throws his hands up. “There is a problem, okay? There’s a problem and… and…” he puts his face in his hands and in a choked voice says, “I don’t know what to do…”

He feels the left and right sides of the sofa he’s sitting on shift and an arm wrap around his shoulders. Keith looks up and sees that the other two men had moved to sit at his sides and hold him.

He feels warm in his chest.

“What happened?” Hunk asks, sounding so concerned Keith wants to comfort _him_ instead.

“You know we’ve got your back. Pidge too, if she was here.” Shiro says, rubbing his back up and down.

Keith takes a deep breath. He knows.

So he tells them.

He feels fond when he tells them how sweet Lance was being, how he was so generous and patient with him, how he gave him space when he just got out of the hospital, how he took him on that wonderful date on their anniversary, how brilliant his family was to him, and all those other things including how Keith might be… might have already…

He isn’t able to say it out loud, but the other two seem to get him.

Then he tells them about Lance not telling him that he knows Spanish, and about Lance keeping other secrets from him that he still doesn’t know about, and he feels terrible again.

By the end of it all, he’s curled up into a ball hugging his knees and staring vacantly at the coffee table.

Shiro and Hunk are silent, probably digesting what he told them or figuring out what to say to him.

He doesn’t blame them. He doesn’t know what to tell himself either.

Finally, Shiro turns to look at him. “What do _you_ want?”

Keith whips his head around so fast he could’ve snapped his neck. “What do you mean, _what do I want?_ ”

“Exactly that. What do you want?”

Keith’s mouth opens and closes as he stares at Shiro. He turns to Hunk, practically screaming for help with his eyes, but the other man simply shrugs, looking confused as well, but not as much as Keith is.

Slowly, the host of the house turns back to Shiro, who only raises his eyebrows in return.

“I…” Keith starts. “I don’t… know? Maybe? I mean…” he furrows his eyebrows together, trying hard to find the words that can help him express his thoughts to the others. “I… I just don’t know.” He sighs at last, defeated.

“Are you sure?” Shiro probes.

Brows still knit tight, Keith says, “I… I guess I want to know what he’s hiding from me.” His hands move around animatedly, but not so excessively. “Not remembering anything is already hard enough. Knowing that the person I’m supposed to trust is hiding things from me… it’s just…” he trails off, but he doesn’t need to finish his sentence.

He feels Hunk’s hand on his shoulder, and Shiro’s patting his head.

“It’s okay, Keith.” Hunk says. “I’m not taking sides because you’re both important to me, but honestly, whatever Lance is hiding from you, he probably shouldn’t have.”

Keith sighs. “He didn’t even tell me he had amnesia too until I asked him.”

“Then maybe it’s okay if you just ask him about this too.” Shiro says. “Things might go better than you expect it to.”

A small voice inside of him doubts it, but he bites it back.

They spend some more time talking, moving away from the topic of Keith’s problem, and soon enough he feels a little bit of the weight lifted off his shoulders as he laughs at a joke Hunk made.

Shiro, still laughing a bit, checks his phone. “Oh God, if I don’t leave now I’m going to get stuck in traffic for the next two hours.”

“Oh shoot, and you’re my ride!” Hunk says, standing up with Shiro. The baker turns to Keith with a sympathetic smile. “Sorry we can’t stay longer, dude. You’re welcome to stop by my place anytime though!” he says with a grin and a thumbs up.

Keith smiles back at him as he walks the two to the front door. “Don’t worry about it, Hunk. I had fun today.” He turns to face Shiro. “And you, drive safe.”

Shiro rolls his eyes and ruffles Keith’s hair. “And you don’t be a stranger. You have that phone for a reason.”

Keith sticks his tongue out in retaliation, trying to smooth his hair out in the process. It doesn’t feel like it’s working. Damn you, Shiro.

Someone’s phone rings and Shiro whips his out almost as fast as lightning. He answers it without looking at the caller, and steps aside for a bit. “Hello, Allura?”

Keith blinks.

_Allura._

He pats Hunk’s shoulder, who’s waiting for Shiro to finish his call. When he gets the taller man’s attention, Keith inhales.

“Why haven’t I met Allura or Coran yet?” he shoots out. “I mean, I see pictures of them around the house, and they’re in the photos and videos that Pidge gave me, so they have to be close to me too, right? How come we’re not… reintroduced yet?” _Is it because they don’t want to see me? Did something happen between us?_

Hunk frowns for a moment. “I thought you already have…” he whispers, but Keith can hear him. Then, something lights up in Hunk’s expression, before he grimaces horribly. “Oh my God Lance… Don’t tell me...” he sighs heavily, shaking his head and rubbing his temples.

Keith raises an eyebrow.

“I can’t be sure—wait, no, I’m 100% sure at this point. It’s got something to do with that secret he’s hiding from you.” Hunk explains with a forlorn smile. “It’s really important to you and Lance, so I’m afraid it’s not my place to tell you about it.”

Keith must be making a pretty angry face at this point, especially with his tense shoulders and crossed arms, because Hunk places a hand on his shoulder and apologetically says, “I can’t tell you what it is, but I can at least figure out why Lance thought it was a good idea to keep it from you.”

Keith raises both eyebrows.

“He’s afraid you’ll get scared and run away if you knew. And for all the trouble he’s causing right now by keeping it a secret,” the man grins quite mischievously, “make him face that fear.”

 

Keith wonders about what Hunk told him long after he left with Shiro.

What is it that Lance is hiding from him that’s so… that would affect him so much that he’d consider leaving? Is it a good thing? Or is it a bad thing? But if it’s apparently so important for him and Lance, then why would it make him run away?

Did something happen before his accident?

He has so many questions. He needs answers. Now.

He impatiently waits for Lance to come home in the living room, unable to stop his knee from jerking. Thoughts run around inside his head like a bunch of people in a marathon, his brain supplying one situation after another, some ending okay, some… not so okay.

Out of the blue, his mind reminds him of that one locked room upstairs.

...Could the two be linked somehow?

He hears Lance’s car pull up in the driveway. Keith is immediately on his feet, his palms sweating, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Damn it.

Lance hasn’t even fully closed the door yet before Keith is already storming down the hallway towards him.

“We need to talk.” Keith says, his determination to finally know the truth showing on his face. He’s only _slightly_ deterred by the fact that Lance is wearing glasses. Since when…?

Lance, obviously, looks terrified at the sudden confrontation. He still has one hand on the doorknob even.

Blinking, the brunet asks, “Uh… is this related to why you’ve been… kind of cold with me lately?”

“Yes.” Keith bites. The glasses will not distract him.

Lance takes in a deep breath. “Okay. Was it something I did?”

“Not telling me I know Spanish, for starters.” Keith says, crossing his arms and glaring. It’s now or never.

Lance looks surprised, his suitcase hanging limply from his fingers. He puts it down by his feet, lest he drops it by accident. His eyebrows knit together as he goes, “You…?”

“Yes, I can understand Spanish now. Started to ever since we were at your mother’s house.”

Lance presses his lips into a thin line. He waves one hand in the air. “But during the dinner you said you didn’t understand a thing!”

“You’re right, I didn’t.” Keith tries to control his voice. He takes a deep breath. He convinces himself his hands aren’t shaking. “It was the next morning when I was looking for you that I overheard your conversation with your mother and realized it was entirely in Spanish. Yet I understood every. Single. Word.”

Lance pales. “Wait... _what?_ — _shit_. How much did you hear?”

Keith takes a step forward. “Enough to know you’re hiding something from me. What is it, Lance?”

The brunet gulps. “It’s—It’s nothing important, you don’t need to know about it.”

Keith feels a sliver of disappointment in him. “Fine. Then what’s in the locked room upstairs?”

Lance seems to pale even more. He looks away from Keith’s eyes. “It has nothing to do with you.”

“If it has nothing to do with me, then it won’t be a problem if you show me what’s inside, right?”

Almost immediately, Lance answers. “I can’t.”

Keith narrows his eyes, glaring even more now. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

The brunet’s mouth opens, but no sound comes out. He looks defeated, helpless even, yet still… stubborn.

“Stop lying, Lance. I know you can’t look me in the eye when you lie.” Keith says.

Lance bites his bottom lip, gripping his hands into fists at his sides. He turns his head to face Keith. In a voice that dances between anger and fear, he says, “How would you know how I act when I lie? You can’t even remember how we first met!”

Keith thinks the both of them might have gasped, but at this point… who cares?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Keith spits. He throws his hands up, stepping right into Lance’s personal space. “You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to wake up from my life as a kid in university into a fucking adult, married to a complete stranger and being told it’s only because I don’t remember it?!” he grits his teeth. “I never asked for this to happen!”

“Neither did I!” Lance shoots back, his hands shaking at his sides. “I knew it was hard for you when I lost my memories, and I try, _God_ , I fucking try,” his voice cracks, and his face scrunches up, “but everyday I wake up thinking, _this is it, this is the day he’s going to leave me,_ because why the Hell would you stay with someone you don’t know when you had a life before this one! I know I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t even know where you get the idea that one day I’ll just pack whatever little belongings I have and disappear without a trace!” Keith steps away and starts pacing up and down the hallway. “Do you really have that little trust in me?! Do you really think that I don’t want to try to make this work?!”

“How do you expect me not to think that when I’ve never seen you with your wedding ring ever since I gave it back to you?!”

Keith is taken aback, but his stubbornness doesn’t want him to back down. “It’s _just_ a wedding ring! It doesn’t _mean anything_!”

Silence falls between them finally when Keith realizes what he said. He gapes, turning to look at Lance’s crestfallen expression and the tears forming in his eyes.

“Fine then.” Lance says, his voice sounding so cold and impressively calm despite everything. A chill runs down Keith’s spine. “If it means so fucking little to you, you can give it back and get out of here.”

The raven feels an excruciatingly sharp pain in his chest at the other’s words, especially when Lance holds his hand out for the ring. His own eyes water involuntarily, blurring his vision. With gritted teeth, he snaps off the necklace with the golden band and throws it at the brunet.

Lance catches it, but Keith completely misses the surprise and regret in the brunet’s face as he runs towards the garage and his bike.

“Wait, Keith—!” Lance chases after him, but Keith’s already disappeared down the street.

 

Keith doesn’t cry as he takes a left on that intersection with the broken billboard into the city.

He doesn’t cry as he rides past familiar buildings but strange shops.

He doesn’t cry when he parks in front of the apartment complex he used to live in with Shiro.

He doesn’t cry as he knocks on the door on the seventh floor instead of unlocking it himself.

He doesn’t even cry or feel confused when Shiro opens the door and nonchalantly says, “Come in.”

It’s when Keith barges in and sees where he used to fall asleep doing assignments on the dining table, sees where he used to fight with Shiro over the remote control on the sofa, sees his little nook at the window where he used to spend hours daydreaming of how a better life might be like, _all gone, all replaced with different furniture, the same layout, the strange decorations_ , that he finally....

Keith falls to his knees on the floor and breaks.

Tears run down his face as he covers his eyes, soaking the sleeves of his shirt. His voice sounds hoarse as he wails. He’s still crying when Shiro helps him up to the couch, the couch that isn’t the slightest bit familiar, _and he hates it he hates it,_ and holds him.

In between his sobs, he finds himself saying, “I want… I want to go back, Shiro. I want things to go back to normal. I don’t want this… this life. I want things the way it used to be, before I woke up to all of… _this_.”

Shiro doesn’t say a word, merely comforting him by holding him and patting his back. He lets Keith cry, lets him get his emotions out.

Hours must’ve passed by before Keith finally calms down enough to drink from the glass of water that Shiro gave him, if the nighttime sky is any indication.

Since he’s more aware, he feels embarrassment creeping up his skin now for breaking down in front of Shiro, adoptive brother or not.

“...Sorry about that.” Keith says, hiding behind his mug of warm water.

Shiro looks at him with a face only someone you’ve known for years and years is capable of making. “Feeling better now?”

Keith nods his head.

“You want to talk about it…?”

His fingers tighten around his drink and he presses his lips into a thin line. Looking to delay the inevitable for a little bit longer, he asks, “How come you’re not surprised I’m here?”

Shiro scratches his cheek, a nervous smile on his face. “Lance kind of called me earlier and said you two got into a fight and that you went away on your bike… So I guess I was kind of expecting you?”

Keith resists the urge to bury his head in his hands.

Tentatively, Shiro says, “He sounded really worried… What happened?”

This time he resists the urge to scoff. Keith takes a deep breath for what feels like the millionth time that day, and breathes out.

He tries to tell Shiro what happened without tearing up again, but that’s a task proven to be easier said than done.

When he’s finished and trying not to cry again, Shiro sighs.

“This… definitely got more complicated than necessary.” He says with a chuckle. “But it wouldn’t be you two if things weren’t complicated.”

Keith stares at him.

“You and Lance, you guys fight a lot, okay? Over small things, over big things… Hell, I’m willing to swear on my life that Lance is with Hunk right now, because this is what you two always do after a fight.” Shiro says. “And you two always make up soon enough, but this time…” he trails off, looking away into the corner.

“What? What is it?” Keith says, impatient.

Shiro sighs again. He looks back at Keith. “Listen, Keith… I don’t like it that Lance was keeping secrets from you, but… he’s kind of right, you know?”

“ _What?_ ”

“He was right when he told his mom that if you knew about the secret, you’d never leave him even if you want to.” Shiro starts, using a matter-of-fact tone to get his points across. “You’d stay out of obligation, not because you want to be with him. He doesn’t want that. And you can’t tell me that I don’t know what you’d do, because I’ve known you since we were kids. It’s the one thing that’s never changed about you: your sense of responsibility.”

Eyebrows scrunched together, Keith feels not only betrayed, but confused as _hell._

Finally, Shiro straightens up. “Hunk told me you were wondering why you haven’t met Allura and Coran yet, right?” he waits for a nod from Keith before he continues. “Lance didn’t want you to meet them yet because they run an orphanage.”

Keith can practically hear his heartbeat in his ears now. “...What?” An inkling of what Shiro’s going to say next slithers into his mind, but he _doesn’t want to believe it, it can’t be, it’s not that._

“You were going to adopt a child together, Keith.”

The glass slips from his fingertips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shiro, the bearer of (good? bad? any kind?) news
> 
> i should stop using him to break things to people afjhajkfs
> 
> (also im sorry for making them fight) (Im not and kiyo knows it)
> 
> anyways YOU KNOW THE DRILL if you like my story, kudos and leave a comment please! o/ and to everyone who has left a comment before: I LOVE YOUR COMMENTS THEYRE SO SWEET AND NICE and i love to see you suffer I MEAN--


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (CRASHES THROUGH YOUR WINDOW IN MY CAR) I AM LATE....!!!
> 
> im sorry for this!! there are just so many elements and scenes i wanted to write, and the news of chester's death threw me off guard as well. i couldn't function properly for the entire day;; (im still barely functioning, but i'm trying. somehow.)
> 
> but it's 4am and i am not letting another day go to waste without an update, so here it is!! i also apologize for any mistakes and inconsistencies, since, again, i wasnt able to beta read this.
> 
> before you go on reading, i'd love to thank EVERYONE who commented and left kudos and subscribed!! literally nothing makes me so much happier than getting really long or really short comments, bc i know i made all of you Feel Something, and that's the best thing ever for me. I LOVE YOU ALL!!

Shiro gets him an aspirin for his aching head, and even offers some food that Keith has to decline because _how can he eat?_

He asks if he can just sleep the night here instead and of course Shiro says sure, because why would he say no, they’ve known each other their entire lives.

The older man leads him down a familiar path, and shows Keith to a door that he feels like he hasn’t been through in months that it’s almost hilarious.

Looks like Shiro transformed Keith’s old room into a guest bedroom.

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.” Shiro says at the doorway.

Glancing at all the foreign furniture and lack of personality in the room, Keith asks without turning to face him, “Don’t you ever think about moving out of here?”

If eleven years had passed, that means Shiro has been living here for thirteen.

The other man pauses. He smiles, saying, “I guess I’m attached.” And then closes the door.

Keith stays standing there, a fresh glass of water in one hand and his bike’s keys in the other.

He places both on the bedside table, not trusting the strength in his own arms. He can still feel his fingers shake.

Sitting himself on the bed, Keith clasps his hands together, closes his eyes, and presses his face into his fists. He breathes in, he breathes out.

Breathe in, breathe out.

He opens his eyes.

He sees the strange clothes drawer where his desk used to be. He sees the new wallpaper over the wall where he used to put up posters and notes. He sees the window with the view that’s still the same, _still the same view_ , rooftops of other smaller buildings, of billboards, of the night sky.

He finally feels like he’s breathing.

So much has changed in eleven years, too much has changed, when for him, for this amnesiac Keith… it’s only been a little while.

He should still be a kid in university, suffering in his classes, and eating ramen noodles when he’s hungry. The only person who has always been a constant for him is Shiro, but even he’s changed, ever so slightly.

Things change. They already changed.

And he can’t do anything about it.

Keith lies down on the bed, still in the leather jacket he hastily put on before he left the house. The heat bothers him, but he can’t summon enough motivation to take it off.

He thinks about that day he first woke up in the hospital, Lance being the first person he saw. The confusion he felt with the other’s overfamiliarity. The surprise at seeing Shiro in a doctor’s coat. The anger when he was told he has amnesia.

It just didn’t make sense. It just didn’t feel real.

Now, seeing that his old home is so different, it’s the only thing that feels real.

Determined not to let his emotions get the best of him again, Keith rolls over and decides to try and actually get some sleep.

Hours and hours pass by while he lies quiet on the sheets, hoping and hoping that he’d be given mercy and maybe, _just maybe_ , wake up to his life before this one. Wake up and find out that all of this amnesia, this marriage, this entire _thing_ is just a dream.

It’s when he feels the Sun’s morning rays touch his eyelids does he realize that he couldn’t sleep at all.

Not in this strange and hard bed.

Not without Lance.

(For a brief moment, he wonders if Lance couldn’t sleep too.)

Shiro makes breakfast for him even though he doesn’t really feel like eating, a normal setup of eggs and bacon, and says he has to go to work soon, but Keith is welcome to stay here as long as he likes. He even leaves spare keys for Keith, in case he wants to go somewhere else while Shiro’s not home.

When Shiro finishes his coffee and is on his way to work, Keith finds himself suffocating in the silence of the apartment that used to be his.

He realizes there’s no point in staying.

So he locks the door behind him and leaves.

  


Keith surprises himself by remembering the way back.

He didn’t expect himself to remember. The only times he’s been to the city were for his appointments, and it was always Lance the one driving him.

But he knew which route to take, which left or right to go to, and even knew exactly the number of houses it took before he saw the one that’s… his own.

As he parks his bike in front of the garage door, he takes note the absent car and wonders if Lance is at work or is still at Hunk’s. He finds himself feeling a little relieved that he doesn’t have to face Lance yet, but in the same time…

Keith shakes his head. Ignoring the prickle of pain in his chest, he takes off his helmet and walks up to the front door, only to realize that he didn’t take the house keys with him when he left yesterday night. The door is locked, and so are the windows, and he honestly feels like the entire world is against him right now.

Frankly, he feels like hitting his head with a flower pot.

(Maybe he should. Maybe it’ll bring him back the memories he lost and all of this would be over.)

Groaning, the raven paces the front of the house, wondering what the hell he should do now. He doesn’t know where Pidge or Hunk live, he doesn’t want to go back to Shiro’s apartment, and he doesn’t actually have any other places he can be…

Not to mention he doesn’t trust himself on the bike anymore, not when his eyes are goddamn _failing_ on him from the lack of sleep. He can barely keep them open.

Looking into his reflection in his bike’s side view mirror, he scowls at how red and puffy and completely dead to the world his eyes look. Urgh.

The man sticks his tongue out at his reflection, and that’s when he notices how close the branches of the tree are to one of the windows on the second floor.

He turns his head around, wondering why he never noticed that fact before. He examines the tree a little bit more, judging the size and strength of its branches, wondering if they’ll hold.

Thinking that it’ll be enough, and really not giving a fuck anymore about what he’s doing because _God he wants to sleep on a bed,_ Keith starts to climb.

  


It takes him longer than he thinks should be normal, and he’s struggling for breath by the time he gets to the branch that he’s aiming for, but he manages to get to across without slipping and falling to a fate of many broken bones..

And he thanks his lucky stars that the window isn’t locked.

(They should probably get this tree trimmed later. Or not.)

Hoisting himself in hurriedly, Keith screams when he stumbles into an unexpected clothes drawer.

The furniture topples over, a loud bang echoing through the house as he goes down with it. He lands on the wooden floor in a heap and yelps, the thankfully empty drawer having fallen only inches away from him.

The man groans, his body aching not only from the exertion of climbing up the tree, but the hard fall he had to endure as well.

What the _fuck._

He doesn’t remember any of their rooms having a drawer by a window.

Opening his eyes, having closed them during impact, he scans around and realizes none of their rooms had a dark purple wall either.

Uh…?

He rubs his aching head and pushes himself up into a sitting position. The room is smaller compared to the master or his office, but it’s still a comfortable size, with a single bed pushed against the purple wall and a small closet embedded in another wall painted white. There’s a desk beside the closet, with unopened packs of watercolour, brushes, and some sketchbooks stacked up in a pile, and some action figures of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles arranged on the shelf above it.

With a gasp, Keith realizes he must’ve found his way into the locked room.

He also realizes this room is for the child he and Lance were going to adopt.

The man stands, taking in his surroundings one more time—the speck motes dancing in the sunlight, the stuffy air that’s fading out of the open window, and the layer of dust that covered most of everything.

So this is why Lance kept it locked.

Keith feels an unnatural cold wrap around him.

Ever since Shiro told him about what was so important to him and Lance, he… didn’t really think about it.

He couldn't bring himself to think about.

Just like with everything else that’s been going on in his life, he… didn’t want it to be real.

But now he’s standing right in the middle of it.

Keith takes in a deep breath. With trembling hands, he leaves the room.

He makes his way to the master, ignoring the sounds of the cats’ bells as they run around downstairs, and immediately lands face first on the bed.

The covers sinks under his weight, and he lets out a sigh of relief at how soft they are. He manages to persuade himself into taking off his leather jacket too, already so sweaty in it and in desperate need of a shower.

Unconsciously, his hand reaches for the ring that’s usually on his chest, and he stops short when he remembers what he did with it.

_“If it means so fucking little to you, you can give it back and get out of here.”_

For a split second, Keith almost runs out the door in anger, just like he did last night. His heart aches again at the memory, of how cold Lance’s words were—cutting through him like ice.

But his tiredness anchors him to the bed. It’s been a full 24 hours since he slept, and he just… can’t. He even climbed a goddamned tree to get in here, and almost destroyed a drawer in the process. He’s not getting out of here unless he wants to.

He grabs a pillow, uncaring of who it belongs to, and buries his face in it.

He falls asleep to the scent of the ocean and something that’s indescribably _Lance._

  


Keith dreams.

They are merely flashes, images that pass by so fast in his mind’s eyes, that he doesn’t completely process them, not really.

He dreams of a wedding with a 3-tier cake, of a road trip with seven people in a packed hippy van, of himself as a child running around and playing in the forest, of meeting someone in front of the university gates for a movie date, of an entire night spent stargazing with that same someone who was his universe, and he dreams, he dreams.

They are faded, but he sees everything. They are silent, but he hears every word. They are his memories, and he knows.

When he wakes, he forgets them all.

But he feels content. Soft. Calm.

Like everything will be alright.

Like he will be okay.

Keith believes.

  


He doesn’t know how long he spent asleep, but it’s long enough that his arms and legs are sore as hell and the sky looks like it’s leaning more towards nighttime.

The cats are meowing loudly outside the bedroom door, almost like they know he’s in here. Considering that it’s Vol and Tron, they probably do.

Keith pushes himself onto his elbows, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, his senses still numb to the world. Not really knowing what to do, he crawls out of bed and opens the door to let the cats in, hoping they’d quiet down.

They don’t, and now he has two cats forcefully cuddling him.

Keith laughs, their tails and fur tickling him. He pats their heads and scratches their chins, giving them the attention they want.

It’s when Vol starts acting hissy and bites his fingers does he realize they’re probably hungry.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you guys food.” He tells them, standing up and stretching.

As he walks down the stairs, he wonders if Lance is home. A quick look out the window at the absence of a car tells him otherwise.

Keith finds himself disappointed.

With the cats happily munching away on their food in the kitchen, Keith makes himself a sandwich when he notices his own hunger, but he can’t bring himself to finish it. The soggy peanut butter and jelly concoction stares at him sadly.

He looks at the clock.

Lance should be home for hours by now.

Sighing, he looks back at the cats. Tron seems to have eaten enough, as she grooms herself a little before she comes up to him to purr around his feet. He picks her up into his lap as he absentmindedly runs his fingers through her fur, letting himself fall into deep thought.

He and Lance need to talk about… whatever that’s going on.

But how do you talk when you feel like the other person doesn’t want to?

Keith knows he overreacted yesterday. He knows he probably shouldn’t have given up the ring, even if Lance told him to. He knows he probably shouldn’t have run off in the middle of the argument, even if Lance _did_ tell him to get out. But it hurt too much, especially when he can’t blame Lance for acting that way after he told him to his face that the ring didn’t matter.

But of course it matters.

It matters to Lance.

And it matters to Keith too.

He feels the absence of the ring strongly around his chest, a noticeable disappearance of something that’s been a constant for him for too long.

He still doesn’t know if he deserves to wear it. Let alone hold onto it.

_(Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe it was the right thing to give it back to Lance after all.)_

He thinks about the times Lance took care of him, the times that must’ve been painful for him to see Keith not remembering who he is, and the times he prioritized Keith’s comfort above all else. How he didn’t give up on him. How he was so afraid of scaring Keith away with the responsibility of a child that he hid that fact away, probably planning on only telling him once he’s sure Keith wants to stay with him _for_ him, and not because there’s a child under their care.

In a better scenario, he probably hoped Keith’s memories would return and no explanations would be needed.

An aching feeling slithers into his heart.

_Coward._

Keith feels like a major jerk.

Settling Tron back on the floor, he goes upstairs and takes that much needed shower.

If Lance isn’t going to come back home tonight and face him, then Keith’s going to go to him.

  


Lance isn’t answering his phone, which frustrates him even more.

Especially when he’s called him almost fifteen times.

The man is now clearly avoiding him, and after leaving a number of voicemails, he decides to call up Hunk next.

He asks the baker if Lance is with him, and is disappointed when Hunk tells him Lance was only there for last night. He did suggest Keith to check out the university Lance works in though, knowing for a fact that there are some nights he works in late, before Keith got into that accident and lost his memories.

He thanks Hunk and quickly tries to recall if he knows the way to Balmera University.

Of course he does. It’s in the middle of the city, just half an hour away from the Altea University that Keith attended.

Putting on his helmet and getting on his bike, he’s determined to get there as quickly as he can, just in case Lance decides to go somewhere else while he’s on the way.

It’s only when he drives past the guards at the gates does he realize: he still has no idea where to find Lance.

Looking for him in the university sounded easy enough, until he realized that Balmera University is the furthest thing from a small campus. It doesn’t help that it’s dark out, and the possibility of finding wandering students to ask directions for is considerably low, unless he lucks out.

Urgh, he should’ve asked directions from the guards.

_Okay, think. Lance is an English professor… His office should be in the Language Department, right? Uhh… now… where’s that?_

Keith slows his bike to a stop at a signboard, glaring through his helmet to read the words on it. Science and Technology… Medical… Music… Dahlia Dorms… Hibiscus Dorms…

Urgh, nothing.

He goes to find another board for directions.

Nothing.

And another board.

Still nothing.

By his fifth failed attempt, he pulls off his helmet in frustration and groans at the night sky.

“Fucking _damn_ it.” He grumbles and kicks the sidewalk, now so lost inside the university that he doesn’t even know where the fucking exit is. Uurgghh.

Who knew a university as old as his great-great-great grandfather could have such a confusing layout?

“Keith? Is that you?” an unfamiliar woman’s voice calls out, and Keith almost jumps out of his skin.

He looks over his shoulder slowly, squinting in the dark. There’s a car stopped behind him—how did he not notice?—with the driver’s window rolled down to show a woman with wide shoulders and a seemingly tall figure, even while sitting down, looking at him.

He definitely doesn’t know her.

“Uh… who’s asking?” he says.

The woman gets out of her car, and as she stands Keith was right about her height. _Goddamn_ she’s tall. Keith feels so small already just by looking at her, moreso when she approaches him.

But despite her height, her voice and face is the softest Keith has ever seen on anyone, moreso than Hunk.

Her hair is cut short, and there are large hoops in her ears as she smiles at him. “I’m sorry, it slipped my mind you wouldn’t remember me. I’m Shay, a friend of Lance from work. You and I meet sometimes at Hunk’s bakery.”

Keith perks up immediately. _He lucked out!_

“It’s nice to meet you, uh, again? Shay, and I’d love to talk, but I _really_ need to find Lance right now. Do you know where he is by chance?”

She blinks before she giggles. “I thought something was off when I first saw you staring at the signs. He’s at the indoor swimming pool, I believe. You can follow me, I’ll take you there.” Shay offers.

Keith honestly feels like crying at how _nice_ she is.

Shay gets into her car and starts to drive down the road, Keith close behind on his bike. It doesn’t look like it’s a long journey, but it feels like forever before Shay finally stops again—this time in front of a square building with five-stories.

Keith parks his bike at the side of the road as Shay gets out of her car.

“This is the recreational building. We have a swimming pool inside that Lance likes to use when the team isn’t practicing.” She says, pointing at the main door. “Just go through there, take a left, and you’ll find it.”

At first reluctant, Keith decides to screw it and give her a brief hug. “Thank you so much, Shay. I’m sorry I can’t stay to talk with you more. But I really need to see him.”

Shay only smiles brightly at him. “It’s okay. I can tell you and Lance got into a fight again.”

She giggles at the dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Lance was distracted all day, so much so that some of his students got scared for him and told me about it.” Shay explains, a fond smile on her face. “I know it’s hard for the both of you right now, but remember to do what you think is best, alright?”

Keith smiles at her, finding it in himself that he hopes to be a much closer friend with her in the future.

“Thanks again, Shay!” he says as he breaks into a run.

“Go get him, Keith!”

Feeling better with the unexpected support of a kind stranger-friend, he practically bursts through the entrance and runs down the left as instructed.

There’s another set of swing doors at the end of the hallway, and he can dimly hear the sound of water splashing echoing from them. Running through, he’s momentarily blinded by the bright fluorescent lights on the high ceiling, his sneakers squeaking on the tiles.

Screeching to a halt, Keith quickly scans the— _woah_ , that’s a big pool.

He guesses it must be Olympic-sized.

But he doesn’t get to think about it too much, because there, about to finish a lap in said pool, is a man with brown hair and blue swimming trunks.

Just as the man pulls himself out of the water, Keith calls out his name.

“Lance!”

The brunet startles, and when he spots Keith, his confused expression quickly turns into one of panic.

Keith expected that.

What he didn’t expect is for Lance to jump back into the water.

“ _What_ the— _Lance!_ Come back!” Keith shouts, running along the edge of the pool to keep up with Lance’s fast swimming.

Lance notices Keith along the side of the pool, and proceeds to swim towards the opposite side.

Keith grits his teeth.

What. The. _Fuck._

Without another thought, he dives into the water too, leather jacket and everything.

It’s when he’s down under and sinking, sinking, does he realize, _fuck, I still can’t swim._

_Shit shit shit,_ is all he can think as he struggles to float, his clothes weighing him down even more and being the complete opposite of helpful.

In his panic, he doesn’t notice the arms that encircle him, and the next thing he knows he’s being pulled up fast.

Keith gasps for air when he breaks through the surface. One of his hands find the pool’s wall and holds onto it with an iron grip.

He coughs as Lance brings him close to his body, one arm so tightly secured around Keith that it almost hurts.

“What the… fuck, Keith…!” Lance says in between gulps of air, his other arm holding onto the metal ladder and his legs holding up Keith. “ _Don’t scare me like that!_ You _know_ you sink like a rock!”

Keith coughs again, not noticing his own hands had found their way around Lance’s shoulders as they float in the pool. “ _You_ shouldn’t have tried to run from me!”

“That’s—” Lance starts, but is cut off when Keith kisses him.

The raven can feel his husband freeze in shock.

It doesn’t take long for Lance to kiss him back, to push him against the wall of the pool, to pull on the wet strands of his hair and deepening the kiss. The water moves in waves around them, the splashing echoing in his ears, and Keith feels cold from it. But his mouth is on fire against Lance’s, and he wishes to get drunk on this man’s kisses for the rest of his life if he can.

When they pull away, and he looks into those deep blue eyes, he knows he will.

With a deep breath, the raven says, “We need to talk.”

Lance’s jaw tenses.

Keith holds onto him tighter. “I know I shouldn’t have pushed you last night. That was a dick move. You gave me time and your patience to get used to a life with you, I should’ve given at least the same amount of patience back. I’m sorry.”

Lance tries to interrupt him, but he places a hand over the brunet’s mouth. The man raises his eyebrows at the gesture. Keith shakes his head.

“Shiro… told me. He told me about the adoption.”

Lance’s eyes look alarmed now, and Keith can see the fear behind them.

He holds onto Lance’s shaking hand to comfort him.

“And I can see why you were so afraid of telling me. And you were right, I’d either run away and never look back, or I’d stay with you just because I felt responsible for the child.”

Keith’s eyes well up with tears from the intensity of his emotions. “But that’s not what’s happening right now.”

With all his courage, he breathes out in an almost whisper.

“I love you.”

The brunet gasps.

Keith feels a teardrop fall from his eyes, mixing in with the droplets of pool water.

“I love you, Lance.” He repeats. “And I want to stay with you _because_ of you. I noticed this fact when we were at your mother’s, but I know I’ve been feeling this way for much longer.” He tries for a smile. “Maybe I have always been in love with you.”

_Maybe this is what loving someone for eleven years feels like._

The brunet still looks astounded, like he can’t believe his ears. He blinks, and tucks away Keith’s wet bangs behind his ear.

Lance clears his throat. “You… really mean that? You’re not pulling my leg? You really want me? You really want to spend the rest of your life with me, even though you might not get your memories back?” he asks, his voice almost cracking, his brows furrowed together, his lips and hands trembling.

Keith cups the other’s cheek with one hand. Softly, he places a kiss on the brunet’s lips, before pulling back to look into blue eyes. “I do, Lance.”

It’s not a wedding vow, not exactly.

But for Keith, it feels like one.

Lance whoops in joy, leaning in to kiss Keith on the lips again. He’s laughing, and maybe crying a little as well, as he hugs Keith tight.

“I’m sorry too, for keeping secrets from you.” The brunet starts, his thumbs caressing Keith’s cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t have. I just honestly thought that was for the best, in case, y’know… you decided that you didn’t want to live with me anymore. Then you wouldn’t have all that baggage to carry with you.”

Keith slaps his shoulder lightly. With a fond laugh, he says, “Next time, listen to your mother. She knows what she’s talking about when she said no good comes out of keeping secrets.”

Lance laughs too. “Gotcha.”

As they both finally climb out of the pool, Lance tells him to dry himself off with the towel he brought in while the brunet goes to get another one and some clothes for Keith from his car.

He waits for Lance on one of the deck chairs, having gotten rid of his cursed leather jacket, shirt, and pair of jeans, sitting only in his soggy boxers.

When Lance comes back with said articles of clothing, he puts them aside on a table instead of giving them to Keith.

The raven looks at him, an eyebrow raised.

The brunet sheepishly smiles, before dropping to one knee.

Keith feels his heart stop.

Lance holds out a golden wedding ring.

Keith’s wedding ring.

“May I?” Lance asks, his eyes sparkling with mirth and a warmth so loving he feels his chest bloom at the sight.

Keith doesn’t say a word as he holds out his left hand, his grin so wide it feels like it’s going to split his face, and his heart is beating so loudly inside his chest he thinks it’s going to break out and make a run for it.

Especially when Lance slips the ring on.

And it’s a perfect fit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shay deserved better
> 
> asDFGHJ THIS..WAS NOT THE ENDING THAT I PLANNED FOR THIS CHAPTER. THIS POOL SCENE WAS DEFINITELY NOT IN THE PLAN AT ALL BUT YKNOW AS I ALWAYS SAY--
> 
> the writer doesnt control the characters. it's the characters that control the writer.
> 
> ALSO, **PSA** THIS STORY ISNT OVER YET but dont worry its all just fluff here from now on. probably. maybe. hopefully.
> 
> why do i do this to myself
> 
> feel free to follow my ig @ strawnillas as well!! i post instastory writing progresses a lot (read: me suffering while writing) so you can catch me giving away a line or two for the next chapter!
> 
> oh and if you like my style of writing, dont forget to subscribe to me as an author as well, because this is Definitely not going to be my last klance fic lol ;)
> 
> see y'all lovelies next chapter!!

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO AGAIN AND THANK YOU FOR READING, i'm MQ and i just wanted to say, leave a kudos or comment if you like the story so far! i'll try to update it once a week, but NO PROMISES... I'M TERRIBLE AT SCHEDULES... IM SORRY I'LL TRY MY BEST...
> 
> you can also find this story on FFN under the same [username](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5008466/), and if you want, you can follow me on [tumblr](http://strawnillas.tumblr.com/) and/or [twitter](https://twitter.com/strawnillas)!
> 
> (whispers: i also have writing commissions open if you're interested in that sort of thing. just dm me on twitter for more info!)
> 
> see y'all again next time ;9


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